Sins of the Father
by Addicted Archangel
Summary: After the BAU spends and evening at a bar, Reid goes home with a woman and does not return to Quantico. Soon, a phone call changes the life of at least one of the team members, and a frantic chase for an UnSub begins.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Beta read by the wonderful and amazing editor frog! Thanks for all the help!**

For the first time in many months, the BAU actually had a few days of. An entire weekend, as a matter of fact. The fact that they were guaranteed not to be called in for three wonderful days and nights made them all relax more than usual. Derek Morgan had suggested that team should go out for drinks after they punched out Friday night, and his idea had been greeted by the rest of the crew with smiles and excitement. As the timecards hit their slots, the BAU hit the nearby bar. Well, at least the younger part of the team. Jason Gideon had not felt up for barhopping and had gone home, and so did Aaron Hotchner. So with the "old dudes", as Morgan so politely called them, away – the BAU was free to play.

The bar was smack full of people. Not unexpected, as it was Friday night and there were more people than Morgan, Garcia, JJ, Prentiss and Reid who needed to relax after a hard week's work. Grabbing the first available table, they all sat down to catch their breath after elbowing their way through the crowd.

Prentiss sighed as she sat down. "God! There's like a million people here tonight!"

"Do you have any idea how lucky we are to even have a table?" Garcia flung her neon pink purse over the back of the chair.

"Well, estimating the number of people in the bar to somewhere around 350, divided by the number of tables, which is around 30, with 5 chairs around each table, I would say we'd have about a one in..." Reid began, but never made it to the finish line.

"Shut up, Reid!" The entire ensemble at the table simultaneously turned to the young agent and told him in chorus what they thought of his mathematical talents.

Reid pressed his lips together in an embarrassed smile and looked down at the table. "Sorry."

Morgan had not yet sat down, and went over to the young genius. "Don't take it too personal, kid! We're just not in the mood for statistics and logics right now." He put his hands on Reid's shoulders and squeezed them. "Now, what can I get you ladies to drink?"

"I'll have a beer, my knight in ebony armor!" Garcia smiled and winked at her colleague.

"I could go for some wine." Prentiss.

"Well, since you're buying... I'll have a Grasshopper." JJ quipped and smiled at Morgan.

"I'd like a Virgin Mary, please." Reid looked up at Morgan, who was still holding his shoulders.

Morgan frowned at his only male friend at the table, and then gave a big smile. "Wow, Reid, I didn't know you considered yourself a lady!" He laughed, accompanied by the women at the table as Reid blushed and babbling tried to explain himself. Morgan stopped him. "I'm playing, kid. But tonight you're drinking beer, like a normal person!"

The young doctor ignored the urge to argue, knowing he'd only lose in the end, and would be ending up with a beer in hand anyway. He figured he'd just skip the middle hands and go straight to the finale.

Morgan returned to the table a few moments later, holding the desired drinks for the ladies – and a beer for Reid. The team was happy to engage in a conversation that didn't include the words "UnSub", "victim" or "corpse". It was a true escape from reality, and everyone around the table were smiling, laughing and babbling all over the place. It was hard to imagine that one single night away from Quantico and their work could have such impact on the team.

An hour went by. Then two. Well into the third hour, the friends around the table had been talking endlessly about everything and anything. JJ and Prentiss had broken away momentarily to visit the little girls' room, leaving Garcia, Reid and Morgan behind at the table.

Morgan nudged his younger colleague. "Hey. I think you are being checked out." He discretely nodded towards the bar.

As Reid turned his head, he was met by the smiling gaze of an insanely beautiful brunette. She was looking straight at him, hunger in her eyes. The young doctor felt blood rushing to his face and quickly turned away, back towards Morgan. "She's not looking at me, Morgan, she's looking at you."

"Like hell she is!" Morgan's smile was as wide as his face as he saw the total obliviance in his co-worker's eyes. "Reid, that woman is totally scoping you out!" He leaned over towards the young man. "And she looks about ready to eat you up! Go over there, talk to her!"

Reid shook his head, making strands of brown hair fall into his face. "No, no, I can't. I don't know how to talk to women!"

"Oh, come on – it's not that hard. Reid, go talk to her. She's crazy hot!"

As Reid was still objecting, Garcia slid a small glass filled with a clear liquid towards him. "Down it."

"What?" The young agent looked confused.

"It's a confidence-creator! Down it, and you'll be able to talk to her, I promise."

Reid looked at the glass for a moment, frowning. But then, surprisingly enough, he took it, put it to his lips and let the shot slide down his throat in one gulp. He did not expect the burning sensation inside. He coughed and croaked, putting the glass back down. "Yikes!"

"Feeling the confidence yet, sugar?" Garcia smiled at her junior colleague.

A few moments went by as Reid tried to steady his stomach. The shot went straight to his head, and a slight fuzz came over him. "Hmm... I think so." He stood up; his feet steady but his head slightly aloof. Smiling slightly, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and started his walk over to the gorgeous brunette.

"Go get her, tiger!" Morgan called after him, making the young doctor turn half way and glower at him. The older agent merely laughed at his co-workers attempt to look even the least dangerous. Now he and Garcia watched as Reid walked up to the woman and attempt to begin a conversation. Morgan leaned towards his female colleague, not letting his eyes leave the young doctor. "What exactly is in a 'confidence-creator'?"

"Tequila."

"Wow. Poor Reid. I hope he doesn't throw up on her."

"I hope he doesn't greet her in Klingon, like he did with the last one."

"Oh, god!" Morgan winced and buried his face in his hands. "I _do_ remember that! It was painful to watch."

"To say the least. But let's keep our fingers crossed for the success of boy wonder."

"Amen to that, sister..." _He'll need it_, Morgan mused silently.

But as it turned out, Reid didn't need any crossed fingers. Before his colleagues' eyes, the woman let him sit down beside her, and moments later, one of her slender hands had come to rest on his left thigh. Their conversation seemed to be going rather well as they both laughed and smiled. Reid was waving his hands, gesticulating wildly as he told some story, and the woman watched him, seemingly not bothered by the fact that she was nearly hit over the head on a few occasions. The young doctor's motor skills weren't as good as they usually were, but he didn't seem to notice.

JJ and Prentiss had returned from the bathroom, only to be met by two very distant co-workers staring at the bar. "What's so interesting?" JJ tried to look over Morgan's shoulder.

"See for yourself." Garcia pointed at Reid, still flaxing his arms in conversation.

Prentiss and JJ broke out laughing. "Is Reid hitting on her?" JJ whimpered as she gasped for air.

"Actually, she was the one devouring poor Reid with her look." Garcia turned smiling towards her blonde team member. "He took a shot of tequila and went over there!"

"I can't believe it..." Prentiss shook her head, still giggling.

The team turned away from Reid and his apparently non-existing conversation skills, and went back to their own discussions. Only moments later, the young doctor came over to the table, poking Garcia in the ear. He said nothing, but a big smile rested on his lips.

"Aaw, what happened?" Morgan asked. "She turned you down?"

"Don't worry, sweets – we saved your seat!" Garcia patted the chair next to her.

"Actually, I was just coming over to say goodnight." He smiled even wider. "We're leaving."

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Reid, you sly dog you!"

The young man blushed and looked at his shoes, still smiling.

"You call me tomorrow; let me know how it went!" Morgan continued and winked at his young colleague.

Reid nodded as he waved goodbye to his gang. Turning away, he took a few steps before turning back, still in motion. "Maybe." He winked back at Morgan, then went over to the beautiful brunette and let his arm snake around her waist as they left the bar.

Morgan shook his head, a wide smile plastered on his face. "My man!"

--

Reid followed the woman, who he had come to know as Angelica, into her apartment. It was a big, luxurious flat with what seemed to be very expensive furniture. His eyes fell on a beautiful vase on a pedestal in the spacious hallway. "Ming-dynasty, probably late 15th century. It's exquisite!" He took a few steps forward to admire it from a closer range.

"So are you", Angelica purred as she slid up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Pressing herself against his body, Reid could feel every curve of her figure touching his back. It made him shiver. It had been a long time since he had been this close to a woman.

Turning to face her, he was met by two emerald eyes staring straight into his. They radiated sexual energy, and it was directed straight at him. The young doctor swallowed hard and bit his lower lip at the encounter her gaze. He was once again feeling very nervous.

But that didn't seem to bother Angelica. She smiled and stepped back, as if she could feel his insecurity and chose to let him reassure himself for a moment. "Would you like some wine?"

Reid once again swallowed and nodded. "Yes, please." Hoping that the alcohol would calm his nerves, he followed her as she swayed into the living room. The young doctor was in awe as he entered the room. It was filled with antiques and fine art, all of which carefully placed throughout the walls and bookshelves. He admired her taste. As he approached the bookcases, he realized they had more in common than he thought. Chaucer, Descartes, Alighieri, Nietzsche and Jung, all perfectly alphabetized. "You have great taste in books."

"I have great taste in men." Angelica came towards him as he turned around. Holding two glasses of wine, she handed one to Reid and motioned him to follow her. Sitting down on the couch, the two sipped their wine in silence for a moment. "Nice tie." She smirked.

The young doctor looked down onto his tie. It was green and had gray streaks all over it. "You like it? I got it for my birthday last year, this is the first time I've ever worn it because I thought it was a little bit too much – I don't think green is my color, but JJ told me that..." He never got to finish his sentence before Angelica leaned over and pressed her lips against his. Stunned, it took Reid a few moments to realize what was happening, but the moment he did he responded to the kiss, still a bit insecure.

As their lips parted, Angelica smiled. "Lose it."

"L-lose what?" Reid was confused, and still in shock from the sudden kiss.

"The tie. Lose it."

After a quarter of a second's hesitation, the young agent put his glass down and undid his tie, placing it on the armrest of the maroon couch.

"That's better." The beautiful brunette reached back and released her hair from it's binds, letting it cascade down her shoulders. She held her glass up in front of her. "Bottoms up."

Complying, Reid lifted his glass from the table and put it to his lips. A few mouthfuls went down his throat and the glass was empty. The wine had a terrible aftertaste, but he decided against mentioning it. He didn't want to ruin the moment. Putting the glass back on the table, he leaned back in the sofa, pleased with the slight buzz in his head.

Angelica moved towards him, letting her hand touch his chest. "Spencer..."

Reid turned her head towards her, expecting another kiss. "Yes, Angelica?"

"Do you like me?"

"Oh, yes, you're a very nice woman."

Angelica stood up before him, and began unbuttoning her shirt. The slow exposure of flesh was enough to send the young doctor into a state of pure awe. As the black shirt fell to the floor, Reid was gaping at the woman standing in front of him. She was perfect. Never in his life could he have imagined being with a woman like her. His mouth gaped at the sight of her near naked upper body.

"Would you like to touch me, Spencer?" Angelica smiled and looked at the awkward young man on her couch, who seemed to have trouble deciding weather to talk or heave.

Reid reached up towards her chest, hand trembling in anticipation. The only garment on her upper body was made of silk and was nearly see through. His fingers brushed against her stomach on their way north. As the young man's hand finally met with its target, Reid was in heaven. It had been years since he had touched a woman like this.

Suddenly the buzz in his head began turning into a blur. His eyes had trouble focusing, beginning to see double. All of a sudden there were two hands where there used to be one, and Reid let go of Angelica's bosom. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to gain back some sense of clarity.

"What's wrong?" Angelica asked, still standing in front of him.

"I-I don't know..." Reid mumbled. "My head, it's..."

"It'll be over soon." Not an emotion was heard in her voice.

Through the blur in his mind, he tried to look up at the gorgeous woman before him. There were now two women as his eyes crossed, and he began to worry. "I... I should go..." Trying to stand up, he fell over, landing on his knees, slumping over the living room table.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Spencer." Angelica's intonation didn't change one bit as she stepped away from the fallen young man. "Just stay still and you won't hurt yourself."

Reid tried to focus, but it was impossible. Letting go of the table, he struggled to get on his feet, only to fall over yet again, this time landing shoulder first on the hardwood floor. The young doctor fought to rise, but to no avail. Making it so far as to pushing his upper body up on his elbows, his head gave up and he collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

Angelica waited a few moments, making sure the young agent was incapacitated, then walked into the bedroom and took out her cell phone from her purse. She dialed, and waited for an answer. When it came, a look of relief came over her.

"He's out. Come and get him."

**A/N: So, what did you think? Should I continue with the next chapter? I think all the Reid-mindwhumping-fans out there would like me to, my head is very dirty right now :) R&R my pretties!**


	2. Thank God It's Saturday Morning

**A/N: Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the lovely and very talented editor frog! Have fun!**

Saturday

_My head…Oh, god… Where am I? __What happened? My head..._

--

Derek Morgan slowly woke from his slumber. The sun was higher than usual as he looked out the window, still lying in bed. With a smile he remembered that he had the whole weekend off, and he stretched out under the sheets, enjoying the moment of complete stillness. Suddenly he felt a hand creeping up his chest.

"Good morning, lover." The beautiful woman on his side smiled at him, looking through the curls of her long, black hair.

Morgan grinned as he rolled on top of the woman, letting his fingers run down the caramel skin of her cheek. "Good morning. Wanna make it even better?" The smile turned wicked.

The woman reached up to kiss him, and soon they were entangled in the sheets, making the calm morning a little less serene. Casanova had struck again.

--

Reid sat up, his head thundering. Trying hard to focus his eyes, he held his forehead in his hands and massaged his temples. As his sight began to clear up, the young man looked around to get an idea of where he was. The conclusion he drew was not the one he had wanted. Instead of waking up in a bed next to a beautiful woman, his place of wakening was something completely different, and far more frightening.

The room was small, about half the size of the conference room at Quantico. A flickering glow emanated from the one fluorescent light in the ceiling. Its walls were smooth and it had no windows. But the thing that made shivers crawl up Reid's spine was the fact that there didn't seem to be any exits. There were no doors. _How did I get here? And were IS here? _

He stood up, still somewhat dazed from the involuntary sleep he had been in for god knew how long. Looking around, a few items caught his eye. Along one side of the gray walls there were four large containers of water - or at least Reid _hoped _they were full of water. They looked like the big bottles that you could place in a water cooler. Whoever put him in this room was planning on keeping him here.

Reid shuddered when he looked over to the far right corner. A dirty toilet seat was sticking out from the pale gray wall. It had no lid and no toilet paper was in sight. There was no sink. The young doctor felt nausea rise as he imagined using the filthy toilet.

Reid began to feel very uncomfortable. Where was he? And why? Who brought him here? He had so many questions swirling around in his head, but none of them could be answered. "Hello?" he called. "Can somebody hear me?" He received no answer, and the young doctor felt his heartbeats speed up just enough to free a small amount of adrenaline into his system, making his brain fire up. _What the hell is going on?_

--

Penelope Garcia had never enjoyed sleeping in so much in her life. The night at the bar had taken its toll on her, so a day spent in bed would take care of every shred of stress and fatigue she had in her body. Stretching out in her pink and purple teddy bear pajamas, she nuzzled her face down into the pillow. She loved her pillow. Suddenly, she remembered that someone was waiting for her.

She sat up, slipped on her bunny slippers and shuffled off into the kitchen. Opening the freezer door, a wide grin came over her face. "Well hello there, boys! You up for a threesome?" Reaching in, she pulled out a jar or Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream. The pajama clad partial blonde grabbed a big spoon from the dish rack and made her way back to bed. Not even removing her slippers, she jumped into her neon pink sheets, snatching the remote control from the night stand. Flicking on the TV, she opened the ice cream jar and leaned back on her pillows. _Ah, Days of Our Lives, how I have missed you! It's been what – five months since I last watched this? Will you look at that? Last time I watched, that woman was getting coffee. She hasn't even made it out of the room yet! I love this show..! _The investment she made in a brand new TiVo was paying off already. _A whole day of Days of Our Lives! I love it!_

--

The walls were smooth and there was no sound as Reid tried tapping them. _Probably solid concrete. Floor too. And the cei..._ As he looked up, he realized how he had been brought into the chamber. A round metal hatch in the ceiling - closed, of course - and no ladder to reach it. A startling realization came over the young doctor. There was no way out. And the person keeping him here wasn't going to let him go anywhere. He was trapped.

--

Aaron Hotchner had woken up nearly an hour later than usual. It was actually easier to breathe in the morning when you weren't preoccupied with drinking coffee, showering and dressing up in work clothes. Hotch had ignored the usual routine this sunny Saturday morning as he sat in a deck chair on the back porch, wearing nothing but a worn out t-shirt and a pair of gray briefs. The cup of coffee in his hand was slowly diminishing, and he had just finished the morning paper. The very relaxed agent leaned back in the chair with a sigh and a slight smile as he dropped the paper on the ground and closed his eyes. He had almost forgotten how nice Saturday mornings were.

--

Reid searched his pockets for his cell phone, knowing full well that he would probably not have any reception where he was. But his pockets were empty. He didn't even have his identification badge or the keys to his apartment. He had nothing. A feeling of fear and insecurity came over the young agent. Why was he here? The same question came up over and over in his head, but no answer was to be found. He paced the room, touching the walls, trying to figure out where he was. _This very much resembles a shelter of some sort, perhaps a bomb shelter. The walls seem to be thick enough to withstand a massive impact, and the one entrance, or exit, appears to be impenetrable. I can't get out._

--

JJ Jareau was just leaving her apartment dressed in sweats and sneakers. Mornings were always the best when it came to running. The first soft sunrays of the day hitting her face made her feel alive. Securely fastening her headphones she turned on her iPod and let the music of Guns 'n Roses pour into her head as she began her run. The steps had never felt easier as she knew she didn't have to hurry back to shower and speed off to Quantico for another day of pure hell. She loved her job, but every day was a struggle, a never ending strife to choose the right cases for the team. The young agent never felt satisfied after a day's work; she always felt she could have done more. But today was different. Today she could leave it all behind and just relax. She could feel the morning breeze against her face; feel the freedom of the open road before her. Nothing could stop her today.

--

The room was completely silent. All Reid could hear was the sound of his own breathing, which was becoming increasingly rapid. He could feel small beads of sweat run down his forehead and cheeks. The room was strangely warm, despite that it was probably buried under ground. The young doctor was fully dressed in the same clothes he had worn the night before when he met Angelica. A striped shirt and brown pants, but his shoes were missing. His mismatched socks shone bright on the grey floor, one orange and one green. The mind of the boy genius once again began to work. _Angelica. She put something in my wine to knock me out. I should have known! A woman like that would never be interested in me. But why would she do this? _His head throbbed as he leaned against the wall, still trying to work out any details as to why he had been brought to this cell.

--

Emily Prentiss bid goodbye to the clerk as she stepped out of the store. Holding a paper bag with freshly baked bagels, she was on her way back to her apartment. She had been looking forward to this for ages. There hadn't been many mornings where agent Prentiss had actually had the time to go out and buy fresh bread for breakfast. It was one of the few passions she had in life, and it was so easy to satisfy, yet still so hard. Too many mornings were rushed though with only a pop-tart or a cup of coffee on the run before heading off to the bullpen at Quantico. All she really wanted was some fresh bagels for breakfast, with some cream cheese. And today that wish was about to come true. She longed for her soft couch and the thick, knitted blanket she always wrapped around her when watching movies on pay-per-view. Looking forward to watching the DVD which was waiting on her living room table, she picked up her pace and hurried home. This was going to be a nice, lazy movie-watching day. Never had _You Got Mail_ looked so good.

--

Still pacing the room, Reid struggled to remain calm in confinement. He had tried on numerous occasions to call out for answers, but eventually had given up as he realized that no one was going to answer him, whether they heard him or not. The young doctor began to get worked up. He ran his fingers through his hair as he paced faster and faster. Mumbling to himself, he desperately tried to think of a reason, any reason at all why anyone would lock him up like this. As tall as he was, he couldn't reach the hatch on the ceiling even if he jumped. Figuring it was probably bolted from the outside, the bewildered young man slumped down onto the floor, his back against the concrete wall. Resting his forehead on his knees, he let out a heavy sigh accompanied by a groan of pure frustration. What was he going to do?

--

Jason Gideon had not yet woken up. There was no reason to get up this morning, so he had not even set his alarm clock. He preferred to sleep late on these rare free Saturdays. He slept alone, just as he liked it. More than one pair of legs in a bed just made it more crowded and uncomfortable, plus it increases the risk of getting a knee in the back when you least expect it. It wasn't Gideon's cup of tea. He liked his space and his peace and quiet. There were not enough of those things in his life. The older agent turned over in his sleep, a small smile on his lips. Just because he didn't want another person in his bed didn't mean he couldn't dream about it.

--

Reid had not sat on the floor for more than a minute when suddenly, the lights went out. The chamber became pitch black. The young agent's heart skipped a beat, and he jerked his head up in reflex. Fear instantly took a tight grip around his chest. But the second he lifted his head the lights came back on. Relieved, Reid could feel the pressure loosen around his lungs and heart. The analyst in his head was once again put to work. _What was that? Can someone see me? Why did they turn out the light?_ Sighing, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, trying frantically to figure out what was going on. Not one minute later, the lights went out again.

Reid flew up, pressing himself against the wall, fear once again rising inside him. But the lights came on as soon as he stood up. The young man was now very perplexed, and this time the pressure did not loosen. His chest hurt from the hard pounding of his heart, and every rapid breath was a struggle. _Every time I sit still the lights go out! My god..._ A haunting thought struck him. _Motion detectors. There are motion detectors here! How am I going to...?_

He didn't even get to finish his train of though before he heard a rattle from the hatch in the ceiling. Someone was on the other side. And they were coming in.


	3. The Art of Profiling

**A/N: I own nothing but the joy of writing. Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog!**

Saturday

Reid moved away from the hatch in the ceiling, as far away as possible. He ended up with his back against the far left wall. There was no telling who was going to come through the only entrance of the room, and the young doctor was not prepared to go into any sort of struggle at the moment. His head was still hurting, and the violent pounding in his chest made his blood race through his veins. Staring at the hatch, mouth gaping in anxiety of what to come, he pressed his sweaty palms against the warm concrete wall behind him.

The rattle continued for a moment, before a loud clank was heard. The hatch was lifted with an ear-splitting creak. Then came only silence. No one came through the opening; there was just silence.

Reid hesitated. Should he approach the entrance or remain where he was? He leaned over a bit, trying to see up the opening. "Hello?" he cautiously called. There was no answer.

"Who's there?" No answer. "Why am I here?" No answer. Reid began to wonder what exactly was going on. _Why open the hatch if no one's coming down? Am I supposed to climb up? I can't get up there! What..?_ Before he finished his thought, a shuffle came from above the hatch. Reid jerked, never letting his eyes leave the dark opening.

Suddenly, the young doctor saw something moving in the dark above him. Reid tried to move farther away, but it was impossible. He was already as far away as humanly possible. His heart pounded out of control, and his hands began to shake. Too many possibilities flew through the young man's head, but none of them agreed with the reality before him.

Slowly, a basket was lowered through the opening in the ceiling. A long line was attached to it, emanating from the place above the cell. Someone was lowering it down to Reid. As it hit the floor, the line came loose. At the end of the line, there was a small claw which opened and closed by some control from above. After releasing the basket, the line was rapidly pulled back up, and once again the deafening creak from the closing hatch echoed through the room.

"Wait!" Reid called. "Talk to me! Why am I here?!"

But it was too late. The hatch had already closed with a loud slam, and the rattling sounds came once again, signaling that whoever was above him was locking him in tight. The silence resumed its reign over the tiny space. At this point, Reid was sweating through his shirt. Slowly, he moved towards the basket, cautiously peering into it. It contained a few items, none of them unfamiliar to the young doctor.

On the bottom of the shallow basket he found a small hand towel, a single drinking glass, a pack of crackers and an apple. As the young agent examined the items, he noticed a note at the bottom of the basket. Picking it up, he tried to focus his eyes enough to read the simple writing on it. His eyes widened as he began to grasp the situation.

_Hello Dr. Reid. Welcome to my dungeon. I'm sorry, but you won't be enjoying your stay. In fact, it will probably be pure hell for you. Being the intelligent man I know you are, you should have realized by now that there is no way out of here, and that your friends don't know where you are. Co-operate, and your time here will be much easier. Please leave the basket where it is when you have taken the contents, or I will not be able to feed you. Use the water carefully; a new bottle won't fit in the basket. Ration your food, it has to last. _

The letter ended abruptly, and Reid turned it over to see if there was anything on the back. There was.

_Oh, and by the way. Don't flush the toilet. It's clogged._

Reid shivered, eying the filthy object in question with disgust. What in the world was going on?

He looked at the bottles of water along the wall. _No way am I drinking that. After what she put in my drink, who knows what she put in the water._

He picked up the towel. _What am I supposed to do with this? _He let it run through his fingers, feeling the fabric. _A towel. Am I supposed to dry something off?_ The young doctor let his gaze fall on the big bottles of water. _How long am I supposed to be in here? Maybe the water isn't just for drinking; maybe I'm supposed to be able to wash myself in it as well?_ He shook his head in disbelief.

Placing the towel on the floor next to the basket, Reid examined the rest of the contents in the basket. _An apple and a pack of crackers. I'm not hungry... _He picked up the food anyway, checking the apple for pricks of some sort. He wasn't sure if the food was edible, considering his previous experience with toxins in his system. Not finding any obvious marks of intrusion on the apple's surface, the young agent placed the food next to the bottles. The pack of crackers was unopened, so hopefully it wouldn't be tainted by anything.

Returning to the basket, the only item left was the drinking glass. Reid simply looked at it, wondering why it wasn't a plastic cup instead. _Glass in a concrete room, that's not very perceptive. What if it breaks?_ Considering the possibility, it struck him that the UnSub gave him a glass to make a point. You break it, you lose it. He carefully placed the glass beside the food on the floor.

Examining the water bottles, he discovered that they all still had their safety caps on. They were all unopened. A light sensation of relief came over the young doctor as he realized that the water was fresh and safe to drink.

Lifting the towel off the floor, he placed it over one of the water containers. He once again began pacing the room, holding the note. The young doctor let his brain process the information on the note and the entire situation.

_Why__ am I here? I have no idea._

_Who__ put me here? It has to be Angelica. Or someone she works for. But who?_

_Why did __the note say that it would be pure hell for me?_ He tried to calm himself down, knowing full well that panicking would not help his predicament at all.

The beads of sweat running down his brow hit his eyes, making them sting. Annoyed, he rubbed his eyes with his free hand, while clutching the note in the other. After pacing the room for a good five minutes without pausing, he lifted his arms above his head and slammed his fists into the concrete wall in pure frustration. Once again the young man found himself in a situation he could not control, a state of sheer degradation. Locked up like an animal, being fed and probably watched somehow like a monkey at the zoo. He let out a deep groan as he let himself sink to his knees, his head against the wall, and fists still above his head. _Why is someone doing this to me?_

He drew a deep breath and let it out harshly. An unsettling thought came over the young doctor as he slowly lifted his head to look around the cell. _Is this place air tight..?_ He stood up, searching the walls and top corners for air holes. What he found somewhat calmed him, but also made an eerie feeling creep up his spine. Up in the far left corner he found himself staring straight into the lens of a camera, peering through a small hole in the ceiling. _So you __**are**__ watching. Whoever you are._

Walking over to said corner, Reid reached up towards the camera. A slight current came from the small hole. _Good. It's not air tight._ He took a few steps to the side, running his fingers through his tousled hair. The young doctor knew he had to be able to think straight to make it through his captivity. _Alright, genius – do your thing. Analyze the situation. What are the facts?_

_Fact: I am stuck in a cell of some sort, there are no exits and no means of escape. I can't get out. _

_Fact: I don't know for sure who is keeping me here, but a possible UnSub is Angelica. _

_Fact: I don't know why I am here._

He placed his hands in his pockets as he looked around the room, taking in every detail, still pacing. The analyst in his brain was at full speed, but this time in a good way. He was breaking down the situation into small bits and facts, easier to understand and analyze.

_Fact: The UnSub has provided me with food and water, and a mediocre way of relieving myself. This points to a possibility that he wants to keep me here for a period of time not known to me._

_Fact: The toilet is clogged for a reason, in this cell there are no coincidences. This is meticulously planned; the UnSub would not have missed that the toilet is virtually unusable. There is a psychological effect intended here. The smell of human excrements induces nausea and headaches, and while it's harmless it is not a pleasant experience._

_Fact: The glass is a responsibility action. The UnSub places responsibility on me by giving me a fragile object in a very risky environment._

_Fact: The towel is a bit of a mystery. Why give me a towel? To wash myself, maybe? The UnSub seems to want to keep me in a relatively good state by bringing me food, water and means to keep my hygiene up to at least minimal standards._

_Fact: There is no bed, or any meand of making myself comfortable. Apparently I am not __**supposed**__ to be comfortable in here, and apparently I am not supposed to be able to rest for long periods of time, hence the motion detectors. I have yet to calculate the length of time before the devices trip and turn out the lights. The UnSub wants to have me exhausted, disoriented and weak – maybe not now, but later._

_Fact: The camera is a method of control. The UnSub wants to see what I am doing at all times. The fact that the camera is placed across the room from the toilet does not leave me any privacy, not even to relieve myself._

He stopped pacing, crossing his arms over his chest. He was ready to make a profile.

_Th__is UnSub is probably suffering from serious control issues, OCD and possibly paranoid delusions. He, if it is a he, would be obsessed with cleanliness and hygiene, despite the filthy toilet. The UnSub could have been abused as a child or as an adult, or maybe both. He probably has been incarcerated at one or more occasions, possibly in jail or an institution. He lives alone, has limited contact with his family and a very reduced social network. The UnSub is mainly a method and/or reason controlled perpetrator. _

The last fact made Reid think a bit further. He furrowed his brow as he sat down in the middle of the room, crossing his legs. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he leaned over, resting his chin in his hands. _Both the method- and reason-based perpetrators are organized and structured. Their crimes are usually planned down to the smallest detail. And they also always have a very clear reason as to why they are doing what they are doing. I know the UnSub's profile. All I have to do now is figure out his reason._

The young doctor rose and turned to the camera, glaring at it in pure disgust. "I guess I'm gonna have to figure out why I'm here by myself, since _you're _obviously not gonna tell me", he snarled at the mechanical device peering at him from its hiding place.

The second he had finished his remark, the lights in the cell went out, and Reid's prison was once again engulfed in a thick darkness. The young agent yelped, dropping the note on the floor. Frightened, he backed until he forcefully hit one of the concrete walls. Beginning to wave his arms in the air, Reid tried to activate the motion detectors so they'd turn the lights back on, but the cell remained black.

The sensation hitting the young agent was fear. Plain and simple fear. "Please!" he cried. "Turn the lights back on! I'm sorry!" But the lights did not come on, despite the desperate pleas from the frightened man. Reid tried to calm himself down, but to no avail. Soon, tears filled his eyes as he buried his face in his palms, hiding from everything lurking in the opaqueness. Crying, he sank to the warm concrete floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. He had once again been reduced to a frightened child, weeping in the relentless darkness.


	4. The Want, The Need, The Hunger

**A/N: In this chapter, one of the main carachters goes a little bit off his standard carachter, but I just had to put it in there..! Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog!**

Sunday

Saturday had been a lazy day for the rest of the team. No one had done anything special, just relaxing in their own ways. But come Sunday, the women of the BAU had decided to meet up for a day at a spa in Lorton. Quantico being a very small community and almost solely consisting of people working at and around the FBI and its academy, Garcia, JJ and Emily had to go by car to a nearby town which actually had a day spa. The Unique-U Day Spa welcomed them with open arms as they arrived. The valet took care of their car as the three women happily entered the spa for a day of total pampering. They were all very anxious to see what the spa could offer them. Almost skipping through the hallway up to the reception, the three women could not stop laughing and babbling about how wonderful it was going to be to be taken care of for an entire day.

"Oh!" Garcia called as she picked up a menu from the desk. "They have a chocolate body scrub! Emily, that's perfect for you!"

"Only if I can eat it." Emily laughed and looked over Garcia's shoulder to examine the menu further. "Hot stone therapy? I don't know what that is, but I want it!"

JJ snagged the menu from Garcia's greedy fingers, placing it back on the counter so that they could all read it without breaking each other's necks. "DiamondSkin Microdermabrasion…What in the world is that?"

"I don't know, but it sounds really expensive." JJ was still trying to figure out where the hot stones were supposed to be applied, and exactly how hot they were.

"Never mind that, girls, we're here to enjoy ourselves!" Garcia looked up from the menu and patted at small bell next to her on the counter. A receptionist showed up, looking like the picture of health herself, wearing a huge smile with pearly white teeth. Before the girl could even greet them, Garcia spoke up in her usual, eccentric voice. "Yes, hi, hello! We are three very overworked, much worn out and very exasperated women with too much money in our wallets, and we are in dire need of being pampered! What can you recommend us?"

The receptionist seemed a bit caught off guard, but kept her healthy smile. "Of course, ladies! We'll take good care of you. For overworked and tired women like yourselves I can recommend the invigorating Aromatherapy For Mind and Body-package, it's 3½ hours of pure relaxation, including a facial, a massage, hair treatment, shampoo and styling. It's very popular among working women."

"I'll have that! Oh, and if you have a full body massage with a guy named Sven, Erik or Magnus – I'll have two of those!" Garcia put her palms together in excitement as the receptionist laughed slightly.

"Our masseur's name is Michael, I hope that's okay?"

Garcia pouted. "Fine, I'll just have one then."

"Very good. I'll call Michael in here and he will take you to your session." The perky receptionist pressed a buzzer on her desk. "He'll be right out." She turned to Emily and JJ who were still examining the menu, but giggling at Garcia's little conversation. "What can I set you girls up with?"

"Um..." Emily hesitated. "Yeah, I'll take the Chocolate Craving-package, and throw in a manicure and a pedicure on top of that. Oh, and an aromatherapy hair treatment."

JJ looked at her older colleague. "Wow, you are really spending today."

"I go to a spa once every five years; I want to be able to enjoy it. How often do we have an entire weekend off from the grime, crime and slime? Might as well come back in the best shape I can be!" She smiled at her blonde co-worker and handed her the menu. "Now you choose. Spoil yourself."

JJ eyed the menu for a moment, and then looked up with a smile. "I'll have the Sensory Journey-package, with the protein hair treatment and an extra Deep Tissue and Hot Stone Massage. And I want a haircut."

"That's right girl, go crazy!" Garcia jabbed the air. "We see enough crazy people on a daily basis, it's our turn now!"

A door opened at the end of the hallway, and a tall, gorgeous, black man stepped out, wearing a white simple outfit, resembling a judo-suit. Garcia's jaw fell to the floor. "Oh, god... Please let that be Michael."

The man walked up to the women with a wide smile on his lips. "Hello, I'm Michael. Now, which one of you lovely ladies ordered the Aromatherapy for Mind and Body-package?"

Garcia was in too much awe to be able to answer, so Emily gently pushed her towards Michael. "Here she is! Michael – Penelope. Penelope – Michael." She couldn't stop smiling, as Garcia was completely awestruck by the beautiful man.

Garcia's hand hung limply in that of Michael's as he tried to shake it. "Well then, Penelope. Why don't we get started? There is a room down the hall where you can slip into something more comfortable before I start my work on you. Nice to meet you, ladies!" He bowed slightly at Emily and JJ before leading Garcia down the hallway.

Garcia turned around after a few steps, a big grin on her lips. "To hell with Sven! Don't wait up, girls!" And with that she followed her masseur down to her place of relaxation and pleasure.

JJ shook her head. "You think he's gonna make her forget about Morgan?"

"Not a chance. He didn't call her 'sweet thang'!" The women laughed as they sat down on a couch in wait for their treatments to begin.

--

Reid had finally stopped shaking. During the time from when he had snarled at the camera until this moment, the lights had come on and off in irregular cycles, causing him to become more and more disoriented, and less and less aware of time. He had drifted in and out of sleep during the darkened periods, mostly because he was too scared to be awake. The young doctor was under tremendous stress in his confinement. At the moment the lights were on, but he had no idea how long it would last. He was not able to calculate the intervals as they were all too irregular. Thankfully, during the time the lights had been on, the motion detectors had not been switched on, and that made it possible for the young man to sit down and rest for a bit longer.

Reid's shirt was soaked with sweat. Beginning to worry about becoming dehydrated, he considered the big bottles of water by the wall. It had been hours, possibly an entire day, since the young doctor had anything to eat or drink, and the hunger and thirst were getting to him, badly.

The reason that he hadn't ingested anything during his time in the cell was simple. The young agent had simply been too scared to move away from the wall. Not knowing when the darkness would hit, he dared not take any chances. But at this point, he was becoming desperate. He dragged himself off the floor, and went over to the bottles. _It's not very likely that the water is tainted, as the UnSub wants to keep me here fore some time. _

With shaking hands, Reid began unscrewing the cap of one of the bottles. It came loose with a crackling sound, and he put it down on the floor. Carefully placing the glass a few feet away, he began tipping the very heavy plastic bottle to fill it. Water spilled every which way as the young doctor tried to hit the glass, and after a few tries he managed to have a sensibly full glass on the floor in front of him. Not too much water had been wasted, but after setting the bottle back in place, he grabbed the towel and dried up the fluid lingering on the floor. He proceeded to wipe his sweaty face with the now damp towel, trying to regain some form of personal hygiene.

As the young man picked up the glass, his fingers trembled in anticipation. His mouth had never been this dry, and his lips were beginning to crack. Placing the rim to his lips, he greedily gulped down every drop of divine, clear liquid. The feeling of water in his mouth was sensational. Reid wanted more, but realized that he had to ration the water to make it last. _I'll have another glass after the next period of darkness. Please, let me have the light for just a little bit longer._

He realized only now how hungry he was. As he sat on the floor beside the water, he leaned back and grabbed the small amount of food that had been given to him. The crackers were salty and the apple was sour, but it tasted wonderful. Such a small portion of food had never tasted better, and he hungrily scarfed it down

_Hopefully whoever's in charge here will let me have some more food soon, _he thought. The young doctor felt confident that he could function on the smidge of nutrition he had put into his system for at least a day – however long that was in this dark, confined cell.

Thankfully, Reid had not yet felt the need to use the filthy toilet, but he had a feeling that it would be only a question of time before that would occur, especially after eating and drinking. His digestive system would kick in at any time, and his stomach was going to protest against the food that hit it at a moment's notice.

And Reid was right. Not five minutes later, he was sitting on the floor clutching his stomach. The apple and crackers had not been well greeted by his system as his rapid eating had caused a severe stomach ache. Repressing the urge to use the disgusting porcelain object glaring at him in the corner, he leaned against the wall trying to calm his body down. He tried to slow his breathing to keep from having yet another panic attack. The young doctor had already had a number of them during the opaque periods in his cell. His chest was still tense from the last one, and he wasn't sure he could live through another one.

_I can't. I can't. I can't. Oh, god, my chest…__Please, not another one._

The young, panting man rested his forehead on his knees, trying to disconnect himself from the situation he was in. Closing his eyes, he focused on the positive outcome of this.

He would be stronger.

He would be wiser.

He would be more aware.

And he would never drink again. _**Ever.**_

Just as Reid had made himself that promise, the lights went out. Startled, he jerked his head up, mouth gaping – and the lights came back on. He closed his eyes. _Not again..._

--

"When are the guys gonna show up?" Emily took a sip of her beer while taking a seat on an incredibly uncomfortable plastic chair.

JJ picked up the heavy, black bowling ball from the rack, placing her fingers in its large holes. It was a man's bowling ball, but the young blonde had been playing this game since a child, and could very well handle a heavy ball. "Morgan said they were just gonna pick up Gideon and they'd be here in ten." Aiming the ball at the pins, she took the shot and scored a beautiful strike. Emily applauded and cheered her on. "They should be here any minute."

"Hey hey, girls, look who I found!" Garcia came hopping down to the lanes holding a huge tray of nachos and a pitcher of beer. Following her was the remaining male crew of the BAU, looking somewhat exasparated. Apperently, bowling was not the way Hotch, Gideon and Morgan wanted to spend their Sunday. But since they had promised the girls to show up, they were not ready to go back on their promise.

Morgan, dressed plainly in a black t-shirt and jeans, picked up a bowling ball and held it in his hands. "Well, ladies! Which butt should I whip first?"

Garcia quickly put the tray down on the nearby table, and placed the pitcher beside it. Waving her hand in the air, a big grin came over her face. "Oh, me! Pick me, pick me! I've been dying to get a good spanking!"

The team laughed as Morgan let his arm rest over the shoulders of Garcia. "Well then, little lady – let's satisfy your needs and get you rocking!"

Blushing sweetly, Garcia shoved her hand in Morgan's back pocked. "Lead the way, my knight!" The two went to grab their bowling balls to begin the game.

--

"I don't believe it!" Morgan punched the air in anger. He had not gotten a single spare the entire night, and definetly no strike. Muttering, he walked back from the lane after watching his second gutter ball disappear behind the pins. "I'm having an off night."

"No, sweetie – you suck." Garcia placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort, but could not conceal her smile and repressed giggle.

The sound of ten pins being knocked over interrupted Morgan's hissy fit. Turning around, they saw Hotch returning from his lane after completing a 'turkey', three strikes in a row. Something was different with their superior as he raised his hand to recieve a high five from JJ. He was smiling. And a huge smile at that. Having unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and folding them up to his elbows, he actually looked strangely relaxed. Like a normal person, not the drill sergeant they were used to see in the office.

Hotch turned to Morgan and Garcia, still smiling. "Hey Morgan! How's it going over there?"

Morgan growled as his ball returned to the rack. "I've been better."

The superior walked over to his younger colleague, placing his hand on his free shoulder. "It's nothing more than basic physics, Morgan." There was a slight slur in his voice. "Just calculate the force of the throw against the angle of your arm, and always..." He began to giggle. "Always bend your knees!" He broke out laughing as he turned to Gideon and began some form of physics discussion. Gideon looked less than amused by this.

Morgan shook his head in disbelief. "No more beer for that man!" he called to his female co-workers.

"Speaking of rambling nonsense about physics, have you heard anything from our little genius and his lady friend?" Garcia looked at her colleague.

Morgan smiled as he tousled his female friend's hair. "Nosy girl. I tried calling him this morning, but I didn't get an answer. Considering the looks and make of the woman he picked up, he's probably been busy all weekend!"

"You know, we were supposed to come in to work well rested and with fresh strength, but Reid's gonna be all worn out and more tired than usual come Monday!" Garcia laughed as she grabbed her bowling ball to hopefully hit yet another strike. "Will you try calling him again?"

"Hey, let the kid play a bit! He's been so stressed and tense lately, he needs this more than anything. I'm not gonna disturb his fun. We'll just pump him dry Monday morning!" Morgan sat down on the plastic chair beside the rack. Smiling to himself, he reluctantly pictured the young genius with that gorgeous woman. _Hell, I'd like to hit that myself... Damn kid!_ He laughed at his imagination, and proceeded to applaude Garcia's latest strike.


	5. Let the Game Begin

**A/N: Thankyou for all your lovely reviews, it's nice to know that so many are concerned for poor little Reid. Let's see what we can do about it in this chapter! Oh, and I forgot to mention, this story takes place PRE-Revelations! Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog!**

Monday

"Where is that kid?" Emily looked at her watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. It was eight thirty and Reid was half an hour late. "Hotch is going to have his head if he doesn't show up in the next five minutes."

"Aw, come on, Prentiss – let the kid have some fun!" Morgan nudged his female co-worker's side. "He's probably just trying to stand up from this weekend's escapades!" The big grin on his lips was not to be mistaken; he was proud of his young colleague.

"Sure, but he _does_ have a job to do." JJ walked up to them, carrying a pile of files. "Conference room in five." The blonde liason left her teammates and continued on her way to prepare the briefing.

Emily turned to Morgan. "Have you called him?"

"About ten times today! There's no answer. Hopefully he shows up before we have to leave."

The female agent shook her head. "Hotch's not gonna like this."

"Speak of the devil and he shall arrive", Morgan nodded towards the staircase where their superior was just making his way down to join them.

Hotch didn't look too good. His eyes were swollen and you could practically see his head pounding. The suit didn't hide the fact that his entire body ached from the strain yesterday at the bowling alley. The man hurt in places he didn't even know existed. Looking up at his co-workers, he nodded silently and passed them on his way to get a cup of coffee.

After Hotch had disappeared behind a corner, Emily turned to Morgan. "He looks like death warmed over."

"Better not tell him that." The two began making their way over to the conference room. Morgan tried once again to reach Reid on the phone, but to no avail. "Come on, kid", he muttered after the fifth signal had passed through his ear. As the phone went to voicemail, he left the fourth message for the morning. "Kid, if you are not down here in ten minutes, Hotch is going to string you up and flog you! Get down here! Or at least call me!" He flipped the phone closed with a deep sigh and entered the conference room.

After they were all seated, Hotch arrived, setting down a near pint-sized cup of coffe on the table in front of him. Looking around the room, he noticed that the team's youngest member was missing. "Where's Reid?"

Morgan fidgeted in his chair. "Aah... He's not here yet. And he's not answering his phone."

"_What_?" Hotch's voice was less than pleased as he shot a question at his younger colleague. "Where is he?"

"He met a girl when we went out Friday night, and we haven't heard from him since." JJ couldn't help smiling at the fact that Reid had actually gone home with a girl. At the same time she was furious at him for not showing up at work when he was supposed to. _Damn it, Spence – we're not playing a game here. We have important work to do!_

Hotch took his phone out of his pocket and shortly dialed Reid's number. As it went to voicemail, he left a short message. "Reid. You have five minutes." Click. The superior was not in a good mood this morning. He turned to his team and sat down at the table. "JJ."

The young blonde grabbed the remote for the projector, turning it on. The body of a young woman showed up on the screen. She had been strangled with a belt, which was still around her neck. Her dead eyes were staring out in nothingness. "This is Monica Sanders, 22 years old. She was found at a playground in Norfolk, Nebraska. She is victim number three of a..."

Gideon's phone began to ring as JJ continued to brief the team. Rising, the older agent pulled up his cell phone. Reid's name was flashing on the screen. Gideon quickly flipped his phone open. "Reid, where the hell are you?" The rest of the team turned slightly as they heard Gideon's answer on the phone.

The line was completley silent. Gideon furrowed his brow. "Reid?" A few more moments went by without an answer. "Reid!" The older man began to get annoyed with his younger teammate's slight insubordination. But then a voice came on the other side of the line - and it wasn't Reid's.

"_Agent Gideon."_

The scrambled voice greeting him made Gideon's breath stick in his throat. "Who is this?"

"_That's not important at the moment."_

Gideon waved his free arm at his colleagues, signaling that something wasn't right. He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote 'Garcia trace Reid', throwing it to Morgan. The younger agent yanked his phone out of his pocket, calling the technical advisor to get a trace on their co-worker's cell. Gideon pressed the button for speaker, and the distorted, metallic sounding vioce was heard once again.

"_Are you missing something, agent Gideon?"_

"Where's Reid?" Gideon nearly gritted his teeth in frustration. Who was this? And where was Reid?

"_Do you believe great minds think alike, agent Gideon?"_

"Tell me who you are."

"_You better hope they do, because if they don't, your young protege might not be as comfortable as he is at the moment."_

"Tell me what you want."

"_Oh, agent Gideon... I want a lot. But for now – let's play a game."_

"What kind of game are you talking about?" Gideon was getting more and more frustrated with whoever was on the other side of the line.

"_One where the life of young Spencer Reid is hanging in the balance." _Despite its distortion, the voice was eerily calm, letting no emotions through. Its intonation was static, not moving a single time.

Gideon looked at his peers. They were all staring at him in both shock and fear. One question was simultaneously running through their minds. Was this for real?

The older agent turned his eyes back onto the phone, keeping his calm. "How do I know you have Reid? For all we know he's just overslept and is on his way in."

"_Then explain to me how it is that I have his phone."_

Gideon shrugged. "You go out drinking, you lose things. I'll just call him at home and we'll have a good laugh about this."

"_Then I suppose you're not interested in seeing what I have for you?" _The voice never changed its strength or tone.

Gideon had talked to too many deranged people to know when someone was bluffing – and when someone was telling the truth. And this person was not bluffing. There had been no demands, only questions. This was for real, and he had to keep his calm. "Depends. What is it?"

"_19967672732328."_ The voice spoke slowly enough for him to catch the digits. Gideon scrambled for a pen, scribbling down the numbers. _"I will keep it open for a total of four minutes, starting now. After that, you'll have to play to see more."_

"What is it?"

"_You figure it out. After all, you're the smartest one there since I have your little boy genius."_

"Let me talk to Reid."

"_Dr. Reid's not available at the moment, agent Gideon. Play the game."_ Click.

Gideon stared at his dead cell phone. Whoever he had been talking to seemed very aware of his relationship with Reid. He looked up at Morgan who had Garcia on speakerphone, listening in on the conversation. "Did you get anything on the trace, Garcia?"

"_I traced the signal to Seattle, but its moving east."_

"Seattle?" Hotch frowned.

"I need you to do a search on a series of numbers. 19967672732328, you got it?"

"_I've got it, and I am searching!" _A few moments went by. "_I have nothing."_

"No matches?" Morgan lifted the phone slightly towards his face.

"_Nothing, zip, nada, niente, zilch!"_ The sound of striking keys was heard through the speaker.

Emily took a few hasty steps towards her male colleague holding the phone. "He said he was going to 'keep it open' for four minutes, what does that mean?"

Morgan shook his head. "I have no idea."

Garcia's concerned voice came through the small speaker once again. _"'Keep it open'? Hang on, let me try something."_ Rattle, rattle went the keys on the board down in the control room. Garcia's fingers were working double time. _"It's a website."_

"What?" Gideon lifted his eyes from the paper on the table. "A website?"

"_Well, sort of. It's a streaming video a__ddress that lets people watch something in real time, like on There are cameras placed on buildings around the world and you can watch whatever you want. What you see is what is happening at that exact time. It's avery popular way of..."_ Garcia's voice faded out to silence.

"Garcia?" Morgan tried to make contact with his distant colleague.

"_Get down here. Get down here now."_

The five agents dropped absolutely everything and ran at top speed towards the small office belonging to Penelope Garcia, who had just seen something she wished she hadn't on the website.

It was a streaming video of Reid, sitting on the floor of a barren cell, his knees pulled up to his chest. He was slowly rocking back and forth. Garcia stared at the image, mouth gaping in utter horror at the sight of her young co-worker and friend looking so helpless and scared.

--

Reid sat on the floor of the cell, holding his knees. The motion detectors had been turned on for god knew how long, and every time he sat still for more than 30 seconds, the lights would go out. He hadn't slept for a long period of time. There was no way for him to know how long he had been in there - the lights constantly going on and off had completely thrown off his time perspective. All the young doctor was doing at this point was staring blankly at the wall in front of him, rocking back and forth to keep the motion detectors from going off.

The lack of sleep had really done a number on his mind. Everything was blurred, and even focusing his eyes was a task too difficult to master. The young man tried to keep his mind clear by continously reciting passages from the countless books he had read as a child. He had done this for hours - or what he could only imagine had been hours. In a low, mumbling voice he quoted the ancient and sometimes arcane texts meticulously.

At the moment, he was reciting the _Iliad_ by Homer. It had been one of his favorite books when he was seven years old.

"For if Zeus that thunders on high is utterly to destroy them in his evil will, and is minded to help the Trojans, verily then I too would desire that even instantly this might be, that the Achaians should perish here nameless far from Argos: but and if they turn again, and we flee back from among the ships, and rush into the delved ditch, then methinks that not even one from among us to bear the tidings will win back to the city before the force of the Achaians when they rally..."

The young doctor's eyes were bloodshot and had even darker rings than usual under them. He wanted nothing more than to be able to lie down and go to sleep.

--

"Dear God." Hotch and the rest of the team had just reached Garcia's office and they had all seen the terrifying image of their young colleague sitting in a cell with no visible exits. Hotch leaned over the keyboard to get a closer look at the screen. "Where is he?"

"Looks like a cell of some sort. Could be a storage facility." Emily stared at the screen, not being able to take her eyes off it. Her stomach was tangled in aching knots from seeing her friend trapped in a cement cage like an animal.

Morgan looked at the image of Reid; he stared at the small, huddled figure sitting on the floor, feeling nothing but rage. Whoever had put him in there was going to pay. He clenched his fists and pressed them tightly against his legs. "Gideon, what the hell? What's going on?"

Gideon slowly shook his head. "I don't know."

Seconds later, the screen went black and a message showed up in its place. "No!" JJ yelled when the image of Reid disappeared from her sight.

The message was simple.

_Will you play my game now?_

There was a textbox beneath the message, presumably where the answer was supposed to be entered. Gideon leaned over Garcia and struck four keys:

Y-E-S-ENTER.

The message disappeared and was replaced by another.

_Good. Here are the rules. Follow them and Dr. Reid will benefit. Break them and he will suffer consequenses. Rule one: Do what I say, when I say it. Rule two: Solve the clues and you will be rewarded. Rule three: The game ends when I say it ends. Have you understood the rules? _

Gideon once again typed his answer in the textbox, all under total silence from both him and the rest of the team. Y-E-S-ENTER. The message once again disappeared and replaced by another.

_Very good. Then let us begin the game._

The text faded out, and new text appeared. This time there were no instructions. Just a quote.

_You show love to thousands but bring the punishment for the fathers' sins into the laps of their children after them. O great and powerful God, whose name is the Lord Almighty_

Below the quote was the familiar textbox for the answer. But what was showing above the quote was more unnerving. It was a timer. And it was ticking down. The team had exactly 10 minutes to solve the clue before the timer hit zero.

Garcia looked at Hotch. Hotch looked at Gideon. Gideon stared at the screen, trying desperately to remember his Bible.

**A/N again: Moah.**


	6. Riddle Me This

**A/N: Beta read and bunny enhanched by the Gublerific editor frog! Enjoy this chapter, it's my baby..!**

Reid felt his eyes give up and fall shut. There was not enough energy left in his body to stay awake another minute. Slumping down on the floor, he rested his head on his arms and as he curled up into a ball. He didn't care if the lights went out, at least he could get some sleep. The darkness seemed less frightening when he was on the verge of passing out. The young man felt himself drift away into a blissful sleep as the motion detectors tripped and blacked out the room. He didn't care. He just wanted to sleep.

The moment Reid had slipped away from reality, a shrill, deafening alarm blared through the confined cell. The young agent jumped up from the floor, holding his ears. The room was still engulfed in a thick blackness, and the alarm was tearing his head into shreds. "Stop! Please! I'm awake! I'm sorry!" The desperation in Reid's voice was obvious as he tried to curl back up on the floor to muffle the ear-splitting noise of the siren. "Please, turn it off!"

--

"Get a trace on that webcam!" Hotch had finally come to his senses after the initial shock had settled. The sight of his youngest subordinate had rattled him to the bone, and he was not about to let the person responsible for this get away.

"I am seven steps ahead of you." Garcia's fingers flew over the keyboard, putting every shred of technical knowledge to use, hoping it would be enough.

Gideon stared at the screen, trying to identify the quote glaring at him. "Can you get a hit on that?" He addressed Garcia, not letting his eyes leave the words.

"Give me three seconds and I'll get you anything you want." Rattle, rattle, rattle.

Emily crossed her arms over her chest. The fury rising inside her was too great for words to describe. "Who would do this to Reid? And why?"

"That's what we have to find out. And quick." Hotch grabbed his cell phone and dialed a number. "Get someone over to Dr. Reid's apartment, he's been abducted. I want the place searched for any signs of forced entrance or a struggle, anything that can be relevant. No, the abductor is still unknown. Thank you." Hanging up, he turned to the rest of his team. "JJ, call Nebraska and cancel our assistance. We have to find Reid."

"When was the last time you saw Reid?" Gideon looked up from the computer screen.

A dime dropped in Morgan's furious mind. "He went home with that woman Friday night, we haven't heard from him since." The moment he spoke the words, he realized that he may very well have practically pushed Reid into the arms of an UnSub. "God damnit!" He slammed his fist into the door, nearly breaking it. The man had never felt more responsible in his entire life.

"Okay, that's the best lead we have. Morgan, go see Anderson and get a sketch of the woman, then get to the bar and ask if she's a regular. We need a name."

Prentiss followed her colleague out the door. "I'll go with you."

Hotch turned to Gideon. "This is personal."

The older agent nodded. "Yes."

"Do you know who it is?"

"I have no idea. But I'll find out." Gideon rushed out of the office, his sights set on his office. The best weapon he had was his mind, and that was exactly what he was going to use.

"I can't get a trace on the cam, Hotch! He changes IP every 15 seconds. He's rerouting me all over the world! This guy is playing with me." The irritation made Garcia's cheeks even redder than they already were. She was determined to bring this one down. _No one toys with Penelope Garcia and gets away with it!_

"What about the quote?" JJ took a few steps closer to the agents huddled in front of the computer screen.

"Ah, let's see. It's from the Bible, we already knew that. It's from the book of Jeremiah, passage 32:18."

"Well, type that in." Hotch looked at his technical advisor, determination in his eyes.

Garcia typed the answer into the box and hit enter. The screen went blank. The three agents stared intently at the silent darkness. A few moments later, one single word showed up in the middle of the screen.

_Correct._

The three finally let their breaths out, thankful for being able to solve the riddle. The screen went blank once again, and a moment later the web camera image showed up again. This time, the young agent was standing up, pressed against the same wall as before. The look on his face was that of terror and disorientation.

It nearly broke Garcia's heart being forced to watch her youngest colleague in such distress. "Is this our reward? We get to see him?"

"It looks that way." Hotch lifted his hands from the table and began walking out the door. "JJ, stay here and help Garcia, let me know the instant something changes. I'm gonna go see if Gideon has something." With that he sprinted towards his older colleague's office.

"God..." JJ sat down beside her female co-worker. "Why is this happening?" She was close to tears, but repressed them the best she could.

"Why would someone do this to Reid?" Garcia wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, smudging her mascara.

"I don't think this person is doing this to Reid. He's not the main object here."

"Then who is?"

"'Their father's sins?' That doesn't refer to Reid; that refers to the fact that he's suffering for someone else's sins."

"Who's?"

"I think I have a pretty good idea."

--

Suddenly, the cell went silent. Moments later, the light was turned back on. Reid panted as he lay on the floor, arms tightly wrapped around his head. Slowly, he released his head to look up. Nothing had changed in his cell, just the fact that he now knew that there was a sound system installed in it. With blurry eyes, he tried to focus his eyes on the ceiling. _Where did it come from?_

His gaze fell upon several small objects sticking out from the ceiling above him. Placed evenly around flat surface, they looked very unfamiliar. Why hadn't he noticed them before? Perhaps he hadn't been thorough enough searching the room. _No... Those weren't there before. What are those? Cameras? Speakers of some sort?_

Upon a closer look as he stood up, he came to a startling realization. _Sprinklers._

Before he had the chance to continue his analysis of the objects on the ceiling, the familiar noise of the hatch being opened was heard. Reid backed away, his legs weak and shaking from the lack of sleep.

Through the hole came the line with the claw and grasped the basket. As the person holding the line pulled it back up, the young doctor found courage enough to approach the entrance. "Hello?" He peered up into the darkness. "Who are you?" There was no answer. "Why are you doing this to me?"

In total silence, the basket returned to the young agent, landing in front of his feet. As the claw loosened, he leaned over to see up the hatch. "Thank you." He felt it was best to show gratitude for the little he got instead of shouting curses, which in actuality was what he wanted to do.

The hatch slammed shut and the silence returned. Reid crouched beside the basket. This time it contained only two things: a banana and a blanket just slightly thicker than a sheet and half the size. As he lifted the objects from their place, he noticed another note. Reading it, he was relieved by its clear and simple message.

_Go to sleep._

This was the first time since he woke up in the cell he had actually felt some form of joy. He was going to get to sleep.

Before going to sleep, he felt the need to drink. As Reid lifted the water bottle to pour the liquid into the ever so precious glass, his arms were too weak from the sleep deprivation, and the bottle slipped from his hands. Panic came over the young doctor as he scrambled to regain his grip on the big plastic bottle, but it hit the floor, spilling a large amount of its contents, both onto the floor and onto the man trying to gain control of it. When he finally got the bottle up in its original position, nearly a third of the water had been spilled and now lingered on the floor.

The young agent was on the verge of crying. Grabbing the towel, he tried to dry up as much of the water as he could and wrung the water out in the almost empty glass. He managed to fill the glass and thirstily gulped the water down. The rest of the water couldn't be saved.

After finishing his drink, he very carefully placed the glass back in the corner of the room. _Keep it safe. Keep it safe._ He picked the blanket up from the floor and slowly went over to the other corner, as far away from the filthy toilet as possible. Lying down, the young agent pulled the blanket up to his chin and curled back up into his original position. He was so tired he could fall asleep standing up.

Noticing the lights dimming slightly, he closed his eyes and nuzzled his nose down into his upper arm. "Thank you..." he whispered before slipping into a calm, blissful sleep.

--

JJ and Garcia watched as their young colleague struggled with the water bottle.

"Oh, God... Reid..." Garcia was close to tears as she saw the exhausted agent drop the big plastic container and frantically tried to pick up the water with a small towel.

They watched in silence as the young doctor made his way to the corner to lie down, pulling the blanket over him. JJ shook her head as the screen once again went to black. "Jesus." She wiped a tear from her cheek and stood up. "I'm gonna go tell Hotch what happened. I'll be back in a few."

"Yeah. I'll keep trying to trace the source of the webcam." Garcia's fingers once again began working the keyboard as JJ left the room, heading for the one place she knew she's find her superior - Gideon's office.

--

"_Come on Reid, let's go!"_

"_Go where?"_

"_Just come on!"_

"_Okay..."_

_The trees around him were massive and the ground was soft with summer damp grass. A scent of flowers hung in the air. The sky was light blue and the warming rays of the sun softly hit his face. As he walked over the grass, he heard the sound of splashing water ahead. It sounded like someone was swimming. He reached the beach, burying his naked feet in the hot sand. Looking out over the lake, he saw the shape of a woman swimming around._

"_Come on in, the water is great!"_

_Not even hesitating for a bit, he pulled off his shirt and shorts, running straight into the lukewarm lake, diving beneath its surface. As he re-surfaced with a sharp inhale, he shook the water out of his tousled hair like a wet dog. His bangs still hung over his eyes as he felt a pair of warm arms wrapping around him from the back._

"_See, I told you it was great!"_

"_It is."_

_Turning around, he leaned down and softly adjoined his lips with those of the woman holding him. She tasted like strawberries._

--

"Hotch!" said JJ, arriving at Gideon's office door. "We got another glimpse of Reid. Whoever is holding him there is using an opening in the ceiling to lower things to him in a basket. He got a blanket and he went to sleep."

Hotch nodded and turned back to Gideon. "What were you saying?"

"The quote is from the bible, it symbolizes the sins of the father and how his children suffer for the wrongs he did. Reid's father has been absent since his childhood, it wouldn't be probable that the UnSub is referring to him."

"It's possible he's referring to you. Addressing _you_. He feels that _you_ are the one who is the sinner; therefore the one person you hold as close as son is suffering for it."

Gideon nodded. "He wants to punish me through the pain of 'my son'."

"But why abduct Reid? Why not abduct your real son?"

Gideon crossed his arms over his chest, drawing a deep breath. "Whoever is doing this is very aware of the relationship between me and Reid, and also knows that I am not nearly as connected with my own son."

"Do you have any idea who is doing this, Gideon?"

"No. Not yet." He held a book in his hand, a book containing the people he could not rescue. He needed to sit down and recollect every single case he had worked on that had gone sour, every victim he had lost, and every UnSub that had crossed his path. This perpetrator was not going to get away with kidnapping Reid. The older agent was determined to find whoever had done this to his friend. "But I will."

The short moment of silence was broken by Hotch's phone which was ringing at an insane volume. He answered by pressing speaker phone. "Hotch."

"_Get down here and bring Gideon. We have another riddle."_

The three scrambled out the door, returning to Garcia's office.

--

"_I love you."_

"_I love you too."_

_Smiling, he kissed the woman once again, running his fingers through her wet hair._

--

As they arrived at Garcia's office, the female agent was staring intently at the screen in front of her, still rattling on the keyboard.

"What have we got, Garcia", Hotch said as he reached the desk, followed by the others.

"See for yourselves. It's a link to a video on – can you believe it – YouTube."

"YouTube?" Gideon frowned.

"It's a website where anyone anywhere can upload videos for the world to see. There are thousands of videos on that site." JJ leaned over Garcia to get a better look.

"Can we trace the account?" Hotch looked at his technical advisor.

"I already did. It's located in Sweden owned by a girl with a serious obsession of some actor. It's a hijacked account; someone cracked her password and uploaded the video in her name."

"Are you sure?"

"I looked her up before you arrived. She's a student on the other side of the world, there are no records of her ever being in the US, and on top of that – she failed every single computer science class she's taken. There is no way she knows how to set up a live stream website. Trust me on this - I'm sure."

"Play the video." Gideon nudged JJ to move out of his way as he wanted a better look at the screen.

Garcia pressed the link, and the video began playing.

"What is this?" Hotch looked confused as he watched the simple montage move before his eyes.

"This is your riddle, Gideon. Or at least that's what it says here." Garcia pointed to the caption in the description area of the video.

Gideon watched as the montage came to an end. "We are dealing with someone who is very determined. He has a cause, and these are his means to an end."

"JJ, stay here with Garcia – solve it! Gideon." Hotch looked at his older colleague who was staring blankly in front of him. "Gideon!"

He jerked and looked at his superior.

"Search yourself. Try to find out who could be doing this." Hotch turned to Garcia. "Do you still have a trace on Reid's phone?"

"I have it here. It's moving, getting close to Boise." Garcia frowned. "The route doesn't make sense; it's passing straight over a mountain."

"The GPS has been removed and placed somewhere, probably on an airplane. Keep a lookout for when it comes to a stop, and find out where. We need to search that plane." Sighing, he turned to leave. "We need every bit of concentration on this. Don't lose your focus." With that he left, on his way to meet Morgan and Prentiss as they should have finished with the sketch by now.

Gideon sat down in an empty chair, flipping his book open. He had a lot of work ahead of him.

--

Garcia watched the screen together with JJ. The textbox on the website had returned and so had the timer. This time the limit had been extended to 4 hours. Apparently, this was a riddle harder than the last.

"Why?" JJ shook her head. "Why what?!"

**A/N: Do you want to help the team solve the riddle? Look up Riddle Number 2 on YouTube, and see the clue recieved by the BAU. Can you solve it?**


	7. Traces

**A/N: Thank you for all your lovely reviews, and I hope you did well on the clue! Maybe there will be another one waiting in this chapter..! Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog, my partner in crime!**

Morgan and Emily had just finished instructing the sketch artist, and the drawing was done. The woman in the sketch was a perfect likeness of the woman they had seen leaving with Reid in the bar. Morgan was still silently cursing at himself for pushing his younger colleague into talking with her. Even if she wasn't the UnSub he shouldn't have pressured Reid into doing something he didn't really want to do. _This is all my fault, _he thought.

The two agents spotted their superior bolting towards them. "Do you have it?" Hotch sounded as tense as ever.

"We have it." Emily showed the sketch to Hotch.

"Good. Prentiss, scan it and run it through the system, see if you get a match in the criminal records database. Take that sketch and go to the bar, see if anyone recognizes her." He turned to Morgan. "Go down to Garcia and relieve JJ, she's going with Prentiss on this."

"No, I'm going with Prentiss." There was a good portion of irritation in Morgan's voice.

"No, you are going to help make the profile."

"Hotch, it's my fault Reid's gone! I practically shoved him into the arms of an UnSub!" Morgan couldn't hold his anger in anymore, and Hotch was getting a taste.

"Morgan!"

The younger agent realized he had gone too far and fell silent. He knew Hotch was right, like he usually was. Moderately annoyed, he pushed past his superior and rushed towards Garcia's office.

"I'll be down in five!" Hotch called as he watched his subordinate disappear behind a corner. Facing his female colleague, he sighed. "Take JJ and go, we need an ID on this woman." A sharp ringing interrupted him and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "Hotchner. I see. Nothing? Okay, thanks." Hanging up, he looked at Emily. "Reid's apartment came up clean, not a trace."

"So whoever took him did so before he got home Friday night."

"Looks that way."

Emily nodded. "Make the profile. We'll get the ID."

With that, they went their separate ways, determined to identify the UnSub.

--

Emily Prentiss began steering the car towards the team's usual bar haunt whenever the mood took them for a drink. Today, however, even liquor wouldn't help solve her troubles. She slammed on the brakes suddenly as a red Mercedes cut her off, and she slammed the heel of her hand on the steering wheel and screamed.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Calm down, Emily. It's..."

"It is_ not_ gonna be all right!" she said. "Morgan's right - we basically set Reid up for this. Not one of us stopped to consider..."

"What - that every attractive woman who looks at Reid is out to torture and destroy him?" JJ shot back, nearly on the verge of tears.

"Think about it - when's the last time we saw Reid even look remotely interested in a woman?"

JJ thought about it for a moment. "There was this one case, before you came; he kissed an actress and everything. She was gorgeous, but a sweet person, too."

"Okay, one time."

"And then he took me to a foot ball game for his birthday..."

"And you guys are just friends. Good friends, but friends." Emily thought of the last guy she'd seen JJ with - he was tall, dark and oh-so-very-handsome. _Hopefully we can find this woman in time_, Emily thought as the SUV pulled into the bar's parking lot.

--

Morgan, Hotch and Gideon had gathered in Garcia's office . None of them felt it was a good idea to move too far away from the computer screen in case they would be able to see Reid again, or if any new clues came up. Garcia was frantically working with the last one as the men tried to make a profile of the UnSub.

"He's organized and technically skilled, probably well-educated." Hotch paced the room.

"Considering the make of the cell he wants to keep Reid there for some time. There's enough water there to last at least a week, maybe more." Morgan looked at a recording of Reid receiving the basket through the ceiling. "The UnSub wants to degrade him, make him feel worthless. That's why he's feeding him through the hole in the ceiling. Sort of like an animal in a cage."

"And he obviously has something against _me._" Gideon leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees. "I've been going through cases in which the victims didn't make it, but nothing rings a bell." He sighed and dropped his head a few inches. "Garcia did a search for any UnSubs who have been released during the last year, and that came up empty as well."

"There's no bed in the cell." Morgan kept looking at the playback. "The UnSub probably wants to keep Reid in a constant state of exhaustion, since there are no means to be comfortable or sleep properly."

"Sleep deprivation is an effective way to play with someone's mind, it keeps the person docile and makes him easy to manipulate." Hotch stopped to watch the playback for the umpteenth time. "This UnSub needs him to be in a state of helplessness. That would suggest a physical handicap, lack of strength or size or any incapability of physically repressing the victim."

"This UnSub also has control issues; probably suffers from OCD and paranoid delusions. He believes that Gideon has wronged him in some way, and now he's taking it out on Reid." Morgan turned to his female colleague. "Have you done a search on parents of victims who were killed?"

"Done and done, baby. It all came up clean."

"Do you still have a trace on Reid's phone?" Hotch leaned over Garcia's desk.

"It just passed Lincoln, Nebraska."

"Can you cross check that with any airplanes in the air right now?"

"I'll have to hack their system, but give me a few minutes and I'll have it for you."

"Good. How's the clue coming?"

"Well, it's so weird... The flag in the picture doesn't match any flag belonging to any country, city, state or regime in the world. But I just know I've seen it somewhere before."

"Keep searching."

Gideon rose and looked over Garcia's shoulder. "Why is the 'e' in 'Eyes' capitalized?"

"I don't know. Typo?"

"No, this UnSub is way too organized to make any mistakes. That has a meaning. The 'Eyes' represents one or more people, possibly in the sense of being all-seeing."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Garcia began to furiously type on her keyboard. "Wikipedia, I could kiss you!"

"What did you find?" Morgan rose and joined the others beside Garcia.

"I knew the flag was familiar, but it's no wonder I couldn't find it. It doesn't exist!"

"Come again?"

"It's a fictional flag; it's from a book I read in college! _The Handmaid's Tale_, it's a dystopian novel about a country, the former US, which is governed solely by men, where women are in total subjugation. The country is called Gilead and _that_" she said, jabbing a finger at the screen, "…is its flag."

"What about these 'Eyes'?" Hotch listened to his female subordinate as she described the book to him.

"The 'Eyes' were a Gestapo-like kind of people, all male of course. They were the internal intelligence agency who attempt to root out those violating the rules of Gilead."

"I have a feeling that refers to us."

"Exactly what course did you read this book in, Garcia?" Morgan frowned.

"Women's Dystopic Literature, I think."

Hotch looked at Morgan. "Our UnSub is a woman."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know. I saw the bitch."

"Okay, Garcia – pull up as much info on this book as possible, find out why the 'Eyes' see no more." Hotch turned to Gideon. "You have a new focal point."

"Wives, daughters, girlfriends, sisters." He rose. "I'll be in my office." Leaving, he wiped the sweat from his brow. This was a task much greater than his profound knowledge could master. But he would damn well give it a go.

--

"Yeah, I've seen her." The bartender held the sketch of the woman in his hands, scrutinizing it. "She's been in here every Friday and Saturday the last couple of weeks. Real looker."

JJ looked at the bartender, hope in her eyes. "Do you know her name?"

"Yeah. Angelica something."

Prentiss scribbled all the info down in a note book. "Do you know where she lives?"

The bartender shrugged. "No clue."

"Did she ever talk to anyone, leave with anyone?"

"A couple of guys tried to talk to her every night, but she never gave them the time of day. And she never took anyone home, as far as I could see. Except last Friday, she left with some scrawny guy looking like I should have checked his ID."

"Yeah, we know. He's missing."

"And you think Angelica took him? That little thing? She couldn't overpower a turtle!"

"You don't always have to be strong to bring someone down", JJ retorted, sick of the bartender's attitude. "Did she ever talk to you?"

The bartender sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, she talked to me."

"What did she say?"

"I don't know!" The bartender began to geet annoyed with the two women's questions. "The usual stuff! She's new in town, she was just looking around to find that one special guy. She had some business here, so she was only staying until she found her guy. Well, she found him, and she's probably left."

"Where was she from? Did she tell you?"

"Yeah, some place called Smithstown. Are we done here?" Looking exasparated, the bartender grabbed a glass and started rubbing it with a towel.

Prentiss nodded. "Yeah. We're done."

The two women turned and walked out of the bar. JJ was not happy with the bartender's behaviour. "Nice guy."

"Well, at least he gave us what we needed. Call Hotch, tell him everything. I'll drive."

Pulling up her cell phone, JJ jumped into the car and dialed the number to her boss.

--

"I can't find any passage where it says that 'the Eyes see no more'!" Garcia scrolled through the eBook version of _The Handmaid's Tale_. "It doesn't even say that they stop seeing at _any _point!"

"The book may just be a reference to the work we do here, or at the very least the work our UnSub _thinks_ we do here. When have we ever stopped seeing?" Morgan moved around the room, hands folded on his head.

"Well, we better think fast, we only have 20 minutes left on the timer!" Garcia tapped the screen, pointing out their limited time.

"Aaah... I have no idea. This is impossible."

"Every riddle has an answer. It might not always be the answer you think but it still exists." Gideon leaned back in his chair. "When the 'Eyes' stops seeing, what happens?"

"Chaos." Hotch sat down in the only available chair.

"Our UnSub might not see it that way. She might think that blinding the eyes is a way of saving the world, like in the book – the 'Eyes' are the bad guys who the protagonist is out to stop." Morgan never stopped pacing the room.

"So, when the 'Eyes' stop seeing, the world is saved?"

"It's worth a shot. It can't hurt to try."

"Okay. Garcia, type that in." Hotch rose and walked over to the technical advisor.

"You got it." The blonde computer specialist let her fingers fly over the keyboard, and as she hit ENTER everyone had gathered around her. The textbox disappeared. A few moments later, a single word written in bright red showed up in its place.

_Incorrect._

The four agents watched in dismay as the textbox returned on the screen.

"Well that wasn't right." Morgan growled. "Now what?"

"Why don't the 'Eyes' see? Perhaps because they are blind?" Hotch motioned Garcia to try the next answer in the textbox.

Once again, the textbox disappeared and the disheartening message reappeared.

_Incorrect._

"This is crazy, how are we supposed to figure this out?" Morgan punched the air as he turned away from the computers, mostly to hide his anger and frustration. He had to stay calm, no matter how hard it was at this point, knowing he had been the cause of Reid's abduction.

Gideon simply stared at the screen. Thousands of thoughts went through his head. Most of them consisted of cases he had put behind him - all with victims, wives, daughters, girlfriends, sisters, anyone who could be a possible UnSub. "The most likely scenario is that this is someone whose son or daughter I have either helped to put away or failed to save. Considering the profile we made, it would be a mother – not a father."

He narrowed down the number of possible suspects in his mind. Soon, there were none. This made no sense at all. He remembered every single case he had ever been involved in, but none of the women fit the profile. Gideon had never been more confused in his life. What was going on?

"How about that the 'Eyes' don't see because Offred has stopped them?" Garcia spoke up from her place by the keyboard.

"Who stopped them?" Hotch had a questioning look on his face as he turned to his female colleague.

"Offred, she's the protagonist in the book. She's working against the government to bring it down. Maybe she's the one who's stopped the 'Eyes'?"

"Type it in."

Full of expectation, the four once again huddled around the computer. As Garcia pressed ENTER, not a breath was drawn. They all prayed that it was the right answer. But as the message on the screen showed up, their expectation was replaced by confusion.

_Strike three. You're out._

Dumbfounded, they looked at each other. "We only get three shots?" Morgan asked.

"Apperently." Gideon sighed.

"Now what?"

Before they could finish their very confused conversation, the image of Reid sleeping on the floor of the cell showed up on the screen.

"This can't be good." Garcia stared at her sleeping friend and colleague.

"He got a reward when we solved the clue. What happens when we fail?" Hotch felt his heart begin to beat a little bit too fast. They had failed their friend. What was going to happen to him now?

Garcia noticed her colleagues draw closer to her and her screens as they waited anxiously to find out.

--

The ice cold shower hit Reid like a bolt of lightning. He was startled out of his much needed sleep by a hard stream of freezing water. Jumping up from his place of rest, he tried to shield himself from the spray of fluid, emanating from the sprinklers above him. He was instantly soaked and began shaking from the shock of waking up to this downpour. "Stop!" he cried, wiping water from his face. The young doctor waved at the camera on the other side of the room in an attempt to catch the UnSub's attention. "Please stop!" There was desperation in his voice.

The water burned in his eyes, and he realized it was salt water. The flow suddenly reduced to a thick mist instead of the massive cascade that had just hit him. The air around him became heavy and difficult to breathe; it felt like the humidity had just risen 200 percent. At the same time, Reid noticed to his despair that the room temperature rapidly decreased. The cell was turning ice cold. "Please, don't! Don't do this!" The young man was soaked to the bone, and shaking violently, both from the initial shock and from the sudden cold.

The mist emerging from the sprinklers had ceased, but the humidity hung heavy in the air. Reid wrapped his arms around himself, trying to conserve some form of body heat. "Oh, God..." he whispered as he took a few steps on the concrete floor, which was now covered with water. "Please! I'll freeze to death!" His voice cracked as spoke, and he broke out crying before he could finish his sentence.

But another disturbing feeling came over the young doctor. He had to go to the bathroom.

--

The four agents watched in horror as their young colleague was hit by water from the sprinklers. "Oh, Reid..." Morgan dropped his head as the screen once again went black.

"That son of a bitch."

Everyone turned in shock. Hotch had just cursed, something that did _not _occur on a daily basis. "Now what? Are we going to get a new clue?"

They watched in silence as a new URL appeared on the screen accompanied by a textbox and a timer, this time set on 1 hour.

Morgan looked at the clue that was being played in front of them. "What the hell is this?"

**A/N again: Do you want to help the team solve the riddle? Look up Riddle Number 3 on YouTube and see what the BAU is seeing. Can you solve it?**


	8. A Flight Plan

**A/N: Hope you all did well on the clue, guys! Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, you people make writing worthwhile! This story is beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog! Enjoy!**

"I've got it!" Garcia nearly jumped from her chair as she received the information she needed. "I've cross checked the GPS from Reid's cell phone with flights on the same route, and I got a hit!"

"Where is it going?" Hotch watch the screen as Garcia hacked her way into some very well protected server.

"Final destination, Fredericksburg, VA. ETA in 45 minutes."

"Morgan, you and I are going to check that plane out. Gideon, you stay here with Garcia and work out that clue." Hotch's voice was determined as he grabbed his jacket from a hanger and he and Morgan were out the door. He was going to bring a team of federal agents with them to sweep the airplane for the GPS-device.

"Where did the plane come from before being in Seattle?" Gideon asked his female colleague.

"Let's see... It was stalled at the MBS International Airport in Saginaw, MI. for a day before leaving for Seattle. Before that... Fredericksburg." Garcia looked at her older co-worker and they both realized the same thing. Reid had been on that flight.

"Michigan. Cross check Michigan with all the cases we've had in the last five years."

"It's gonna take a few minutes."

"Then let's concentrate on the riddle. The passage. It's from _The Divine Comedy_ by Dante Alighieri."

"Should I type that in?"

"No. The UnSub is cleverer than that, and he knows I am as well. It's not that easy."

"What if it is?"

"It's not. Can you get an electronic copy of the book on the internet?"

"Of course."

"We need to find out _who _it was who said those exact words." Gideon sighed. _All this work for what? Why the game? The UnSub wants me to see Reid suffer. Some of the riddles won't even have an answer – like the last one. There was no way we could have solved that riddle. The UnSub simply wants to torment 'my son' as she pictures I have tormented her child. I have to find this one. Good God, Reid..._

--

Reid shook violently from the intense cold in the cell. His clothes were soaked and there was water everywhere. On top of that, whoever was controlling his imprisonment had turned down the heat to a near sub zero temperature. Rubbing his arms with his hands, he felt himself going stiff. The young doctor was shivering so badly he could feel his teeth pounding against each other as they chattered..

His cheeks were stinging from the cold as he slumped down on the floor in the far right corner of the cell, holding his arms. Sitting in the water lingering on the floor, he tried to calm his heart down. It was racing a mile a minute, the shock and the cold was doing a number on his body. The young agent hurt everywhere, and the freezing air around him penetrated every inch of his drenched clothes. Even breathing hurt, and Reid could actually see his breath in front of him as he exhaled. "P-p-please", he stuttered. "D-d-don't-t d-do t-this-s..."

--

Hotch and Morgan had just reached the Fredericksburg Airport and rushed inside, accompanied by a team of federal agents. After flashing their credentials, they were shown to see the manager of the airport, explaining the situation to him. Reluctantly, he gave the team permission to search the plane before the clean up crew got to it, and they rushed to the gate to board the plane.

On their way over there, Hotch's phone rang for the twentieth time that day. "Hotchner."

"_Hotch, we got a hit!" _Emily's voice was heard through the speaker.

"The sketch?"

"_Yes. Angelica Monroe, 24. She was arrested three months ago for driving without a license. It was her first offence so the judge was lenient. She got a 200 dollar fine."_

"Do you have an address?"

"_We've already been there, it's an empty apartment. Nothing. Not even a bed."_

"A bogus address." Morgan nodded. "Should have known that girl was trouble. Damnit!"

"Calm down, Morgan." Hotch raised his hand slightly to make his subordinate keep his head together. "What's her last known address before that?"

"_That's the weird part, there is none! Her social security number was fake, and she has no medical records and no credit card or bank account. Garcia checked it. It's like she didn't exist until a few months ago."_

"Right about when she arrived here." Hotch frowned. "Angelica Monroe is probably a false identity."

"_Probably. Now what? That was our only lead."_

"We're at the Fredericksburg Airport right now; Reid's GPS is on an airplane coming in from Seattle."

"_Great. Call me if you get something."_

"I will. Keep searching for Angelica, or whatever her name is."

"_You got it."_

Morgan shook his head as they swiftly walked down the terminal. "Fake address, fake name, fake tits..." Anger bubbled inside him, and it was ready to erupt.

"Focus, Morgan." Hotch began to grow tired with his younger colleagues remarks and tantrums, but fully understood why he felt the way he did. The guilt was getting to him.

--

"Come on, Gideon!" Garcia was getting more and more stressed as the timer ticked closer and closer to zero. "We have to write _something_!"

Gideon paced the room, one hand on his hip and one on his neck. "We've already determined that Dante wrote the book and that the person saying the phrase is one of the traitors. But who is the UnSub referring to?"

"Let's try them both! We have three tries, and four minutes left! We have to try, Gideon."

"Okay, okay..." Gideon sighed. "Type in Dante."

_Incorrect._

"Type in The Traitor."

_Incorrect._

"Now what?" Garcia haplessly flung her hands in the air.

"The damned one is stuck in the ninth circle of the Malebolge, hell. He's in the first zone, Caïna, the place for traitors who betrayed their kindred." Gideon's brain was working overtime.

"One minute, Gideon."

"The ninth level of the Malebolge is reserved for the worst criminals; traitors. Traitors to their kindred, traitors who betrayed the people who trusted them; they are in the first zone, they are not the worst traitors but still deserve to be in the lowest part of hell."

"Gideon..."

"Who is the traitor? Who has betrayed someone who trusted them?" He turned towards Garcia. "Who is considered the reason for all this?"

Garcia stared at the older agent, mouth open. "You..."

Gideon stepped over to the screen, pushing Garcia's fingers away from the keyboard and typed in: Jason Gideon. The screen went blank. Then came the message.

_Correct._

--

Meanwhile, Morgan and Hotch had been allowed on board the plane. After calling Garcia to confirm that the GPS was no longer moving, they began their search of the cabin. After about an hour, one of the agents had found the small device beneath one of the chairs. The two agents contacted the manager once again to find out whose chair it had been on the flight between Fredericksburg and Michigan two days ago.

"Well, let's see." The manager typed on his keyboard, bringing up the seating arrangement for the flight. "C-45, that would be a Ms Angelica Monroe."

The two agents looked at each other. "Too much of a coincidence." Hotch turned back to the manager. "Did she travel alone? Who was sitting next to her?"

"A Ms Caitlin Carell."

Morgan pulled up her phone and dialed Garcia's number to get a trace on Cate Carrell, as Hotch kept questioning the manager. "Did Angelica Monroe have any luggage?"

"Yes, according to this she had to pay nearly double the price for a big trunk she had with her."

"How big of trunk?" Hotch felt his stomach churn. _Reid._

"It was about casket-sized; say six-and-a-half foot by four foot?"

Hotch felt the irritation rise inside him. "And no one checked it?"

"If the dogs don't trip on it, we don't scan or check. This is a small airport, agent Hotchner. We don't get a lot of terrorists here." The manager tilted his head as if he thought the agent before him had lost his marbles completely.

"No, but a couple of kidnappers. There was a federal agent in that trunk."

"My lord!" The manager's facial expression changed from superior to shock.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Hansen. We'll call if we need something."

"Sure, anything! Hey, I hope you find him!" the manager called as Hotch left the room to join his teammate.

"They took Reid away in a trunk and brought him on this plane. They got off in Saginaw, MI."

"Then that's where we're going. I'll call the others. Garcia's running a check on Cate Carrell as we speak."

"I'll call ahead and get the jet prepared."

The two hurried to their SUV to return to Quantico, post haste.

--

"Come on, give us our reward already!" Garcia said impatiently. "We have to see if Reid is okay."

But there was no picture of Reid on the screen. Instead, a simple message appeared in the middle of the black background.

_Well done. It's not always easy to admit to your own guilt. This is your reward: There will be no more riddles until tomorrow. Dr. Reid will also be rewarded for your honesty. We will resume the game tomorrow. Enjoy your sleep._

And the screen went blank.

Garcia was close to tears. "That's it? We don't get to see Reid?"

But the screen lit up, and yes – there was the young doctor. Unfortunately they had caught him at a bad time, as he was urinating at the moment. Garcia looked away in respect. "Tell me when he's done." A minute passed by. "Is he still going?"

"Yes."

"Wow, he really had to go!"

"He's done."

Just as Garcia turned back the screen went blank once again. "Aw, man!" She banged the desk with her clenched fist. "Did he look okay to you?"

"He looked alive." That was all Gideon had to say about the young, soaked man he had just seen relieving himself on live camera.

"We have a lot of work ahead of us. But there's really nothing more we can do about the clues or Reid's predicament right now. You keep doing the search on Cate Carrell." He looked at his wrist watch. "It's four PM. I'll go get some coffee and something to eat, we need the energy." With that, he left the room, still processing the years of cases he had been through, trying to match _something_ with this mess.

--

It had never felt better to pee. Reid's entire body was shaking from the cold, and it was impossible to keep his aim straight; but this had to be done. The urine spattered every which way, but at least it left his body. The sense of relief that coursed through the young doctor's body made him let out a shaky moan of pure bliss. He had held it in until he could hold it no more, until he was about to burst – and finally he gave up and chose to use the filthy toilet. The smell of urine didn't even bother him, he was just happy to have been able to relieve himself in the freezing cold, seeing three quarters of him had crawled back up into his body.

Suddenly, Reid felt a slight breeze coming from...somewhere. A warm breeze. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth on his face. The cell had been freezing for a long time-- unbeknownst to Reid, it was only an hour--and the water on the floor had begun to harden. His clothes were crisp with ice and didn't move when he did.

The breeze became stronger. It felt like someone held a hairdryer against him, only at low volume. Reid was becoming increasingly confused. Why was this happening? He had lost his ability to think rationally a long time ago, and his analytical sense had disappeared about the same time as he was doused with freakishly cold water.

At this point, Spencer Reid had regressed to the state of a small child; doing what he was told, when he was told. He just wanted to survive.


	9. The Trading Game

**A/N: Thank you everyone who has been reviewing, you are amazing! A good part of this chapter has been written by the Gublerific editor frog, so she deserves praise as well for this one! She has also beta readit! Fantastic, woman!**

The warm air felt wonderful. Reid stood underneath the current, rubbing his hands over his frozen form. It didn't really matter where the heat was coming from; as far as the young doctor was concerned, it could be coming from exhaust fumes and it would still be welcome.

The temperature climbed steadily; it was warm at first and then began to grow increasingly hotter. Drops of sweat began to form across the young man's brow, and his clothes were slowly drying from the increased heat. Instead of being stiff and frozen, they were now damp and stiff from the salt in them.

_Why salt water?_ he thought. _Why not just tap into an available water line? _

His thought processes slowly began to stir. _They didn't want me to drink the water,_ he reasoned finally. _This is about suffering—the shock and cold were enough, but to know that I couldn't gain from the added water…_

His mind raced. _Who on earth could I have angered so much to deserve this?_

He could think of no one. Even with all of the unsubs he'd encountered and all of the relatives of said UnSubs, everyone and anyone he could think of who was connected to any case he'd worked was simply not capable of this.

_What if this isn't meant for me, specifically? What if it's about leverage?_

_But… leverage against what?_

Reid's mind was swimming. The little sleep he'd been allowed has rested him a bit, but not nearly enough for his liking. He noticed that the lights, though still dim, were back on, and that the motion detectors were not set. He sat with his back flush with the far wall of his cell, his knees drawn up to his chest, deep in thought.

------

MBS International Airport proved to be a contradiction in terms. It was an "international" airport, but it mainly ferried travelers to larger, better connected airports—Detroit Metro and Chicago O'Hare were two of its usual destinations.

It was here that the members of the BAU met up with members of the FBI field office in Saginaw, Michigan—the largest of the three cities making up the metropolitan area of mid- and central Michigan.

"Yes, Cate Carell and Angelica Monroe did disembark here." The manager of the airport searched his computer for the information requested by the federal agents by his desk.

"Do you have an address for any of them?" Hotch finally felt that something was going their way in the search for their colleague.

"Only if they payed with a credit card. Which they didn't." The manager shook his head. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of any more help."

Hotch nodded at Morgan, as if telling him to go check if anyone with Angelica's description and luggage had rented a car at the airport that Friday. The younger agent gave a nod in return and left the office to contact the rental services.

Hotch shook the manager's hand and left. Pulling up the small Nokia from his pocket, he dialed the number to Garcia. Not even an entire signal passed before the bright voice answered.

"_Garcia."_

"Garcia, what do you have on Cate Carell?"

"_Not much. She got a speeding ticket a few years back, that's pretty much all I have."_

"Can you send the file to the Saginaw police station?"

"_I will. And I'll do a further check on Carell and find out where she lives. If I find something I'll send it with the file."_

"Perfect. Thanks Garcia. And Garcia?"

"_Yeah?"_

"Get some rest."

"_I'll try." _

Hotch hung up. Finally, something was going right. They had a physical place to go in their hunt for the UnSub. But it was getting late. Nearing 9 PM, Hotch's mind was about to shut down. He needed sleep, and he knew the rest of the team did too.

Earlier, Garcia had told him about the success in solving the last clue, and that there were going to be no more clues until tomorrow. That made it possible for her and Gideon to rest, gathering up their strength for tomorrow. He had a feeling Morgan would not be up for resting before the UnSub was caught, but there was really no choise.

He went to talk to Morgan; try to convince him to get some rest at the hotel room Garcia had booked for them. On the way to see his younger subordinate, he dialed the phone once again, this time to Prentiss and JJ. They too needed to rest before flying in to Saginaw.

------

The temperature was getting steadily warmer. Reid felt as though he could melt inside his damp, itchy, salt-filled clothes. A part of him wished he could change his clothes, but the likelihood of him being able to get new clothes seemed impossible. Even if new clothes were miraculously provided, the young doctor questioned whether he would want them—_what if they're laced with something, like poison or itching powder or fleas or something?_

He took a look at his clothes. They were nothing out of the ordinary—a striped dress shirt and brown pants (he had left his tie in Angelica's apartment)—but there was now a deeper resonance about them.

They were his. _His _clothes. He'd picked them out; he'd decided to put them on that morning.

They were the last remnants of a reality he was slowly beginning to think would never be his again.

The young doctor sat on the damp concrete, deep in contemplation, when he heard the hatch door above him creak open.

Reid rose from the floor and ventured cautiously towards the opening.

"Hello?" he called. As before, there was no answer.

"Please, talk to me," he called again, his voice beginning to crack. "Why am I here?"

Again, there was only silence.

Reid tried desperately to engage his captor in some form of conversation; it felt like years since he'd heard anything but the sound of his own voice.

A familiar object hurtled down towards the young man; it was the small basket. This time, however, it stopped about chest level with the agent.

Reid peered inside. The basket held a simple note and a small bag. Above, the line jerked; Reid emptied the carrier of its contents and the basket once again disappeared out of sight. The door slammed shut with a familiar metallic _clang_ and the sounds of locks falling into place.

Deflated, Reid took the bag and note and once again sat on the floor near the wall. The rising heat was quickly drying the room, and the concrete had actual dry patches littering the floor, but the humidity was intense and made it difficult to breathe at points.

The young man opened the bag first. It was burlap, and full of nuts—almonds and cashews. Realizing the last bit of food had probably gone bad due to the sudden soaking and cold shock, he grabbed a handful of the nuts and began to devour them. They were salted, but for the starving agent they were like eating a piece of paradise.

The salt, however, made Reid thirsty. He eyed what water he had left—there were still three full bottles and about an eighth of the fourth bottle remaining. Carefully, he retrieved his precious drinking glass from its corner—it somehow managed to survive the sudden freezing unscathed—and managed to pour a small glass of water without spilling a drop.

The water tasted like heaven. It was cool, clear, and clean to the tongue.

Returning the glass to its protective spot, Reid focused his attention onto the letter. It was significantly longer than the previous ones, and he studied it closely.

_Dr. Reid, the time has come for you to make some hard choices,_ the letter began. _Up until now I have been fairly generous, but in order to receive anything more, you will now have to give up something in return._

"Give up?" Reid said, half aloud. "Give up what?"

_You're probably thinking "what could I possibly have to give up?" _the letter continued._ Well, it's simple. Take stock of what you have; you'll find you have a lot._

_Here's how this will work: I will ask you for something, and you will get something in return. The choice is yours on whether or not you want what I offer; however, there's only so long for you to decide before you forfeit it. I assure you, you won't be able to forgo everything. There'll be something eventually that you'll want._

_Right now, I offer this: a full dinner and a dry towel. Here's what I want: your pants. You have until the door opens to decide._

Reid dropped the letter to the floor. The thought of actual _food_—real food, not just bits to tide him over—was extremely tempting. A new towel—one not as soaked and as salt-filled and as filthy as the one he had—would be pleasant.

But then, he thought about what he'd be giving up. Reid ran his hands over his pants; the feel of familiar cloth that covered his now-boiling legs. Though he'd like nothing more than to take them off, he feared what might happen if the temperature suddenly dropped below freezing again.

_I might catch cold. I might get frostbite. I might…_

Suddenly, the hatch creaked open again. The line dropped, and the basket appeared on the floor.

Reid stared at it for a few moments, trying to decide his next step.

--

"No, Hotch I will _not _get some rest! Not until we get this son of a bitch!" Morgan raged at the idea of going to sleep when one of his best friends was trapped in a cell somewhere.

"Morgan, you know you have to. I don't want to either; I want to find the UnSub as much as you, but we have to get some rest. There's nothing more we can do tonight. We have to wait for Garcia to send the info on Carell." Hotch tried to calm his co-worker down; tried to get some sense into him. Morgan had to realize that they couldn't run on fumes, they had to eat – and sleep – if they were going to find Reid.

Had Morgan hair of any length on his head, he would have torn it out. He paced forwards and backwards in the near-empty terminal, hands on his head. The man looked ready to explode at any moment. "It's my fault, Hotch", he groaned. "I shoved him into that woman's arms, and now..."

"Don't say that. This is _not _your fault. No one could see this coming." Hotch had lost count of how many times he had reassured the younger agent that he could not take responsibility in this matter. This was the work of a very organized UnSub, and there probably would have been nothing anyone could have done. If the UnSub did have his or her eyes on Reid, he or she would have gotten to him in one way or an other; no matter if Morgan had encouraged his younger colleague to talk to the woman in the bar.

"I can't, I just..." Morgan dropped his arms and looked his superior straight in the eyes. "I feel so damn helpless."

"We all do." Hotch placed a hand on his colleague's shoulder. "That's why we need to be at our best when we resume this tomorrow. We'll have more information then, something tangible."

Morgan reluctantly nodded, and followed his boss to the government issued SUV that was waiting for them in the parking lot.

--

The young agent looked at the basket in dismay. He could feel his stomach ache and rumble, and the fact that the cell was getting warmer and warmer did not make matters any better. He wanted food - real, actual stomach-filling food - so badly.

_Is it worth it? I really need food, and it's so warm... _he thought. The note had said the young doctor would have to make difficult desicions, but this?

The young man made his desicion. He had to survive. Unbuttoning his pants, he let them drop to the warm cement floor. Blushing badly from the shame in showing himself to his captor, he folded his trousers and placed them neatly in the basket, then stepped away.

Once again, the basket disappeared up into the opening. A few moments passed by, and it returned. Slowly lowering towards the floor, Reid could feel the wonderful smell of cooked meat. As the basket hit the floor, the young man nearly pounched on it, taking out its contents before whoever held the line changed their mind.

There was a plate covered in saran wrap, filled with meat, gravy and potatoes. On top of the plate lay a plastic knife and fork, a small container of milk and to Reid's surprise – a piece of orange Jello. He almost ripped the ceran wrap from the plate, enjoying every second of its divine smell before jamming his fork in the biggest piece of meat there was.

The young doctor didn't even notice the basket disappearing and the hatch being closed. Nor did he mind the fact that he was sitting in nothing but his socks, boxers and shirt on the floor of the cell, hastily scarfing down the food given to him.

Food had never tasted better. He knew he should take sensible bites, but he couldn't stop himself. The young agent practically threw the food into his mouth and only chewed it briefly before swallowing. Gravy ran down his chin as he put a huge chunk of potato in his mouth, closing his eyes in pure enjoyment. _Food! It's so good! _he thought.

The entire meal was finished in less than five minutes, and the young man put his fork down on the plate, leaning back on his arms. His stomach actually felt full, for the first time in days; or what he could only imagine to be days.

He turned to the camera, looking up at it with big puppy-eyes. "Thank you."

Moments later, the cell turned a deep opaque, and all that could be heard were the hitched breathing and faint whimpers of a very frightened agent, who had once again been left alone to face his greatest fear: the dark.

--

Garcia's hair had fallen down over her face as she had slumped over on her desk. The day had physically and mentally exhausted her, and the blonde computer wizard had fallen into a deep sleep amidst her screens and keyboards.

Nearby, Gideon had involuntarily drifted away into dreamland in his wooden chair by the wall. Arms crossed and chin dropped to chest, the rugged agent resembled a 19th century sheriff sleeping in his chair outside the office. His dreams were less pleasant. Every UnSub he had ever encountered and every wife of them flashed before his eyes, even in his sleep.

On the screen beside Garcia the file meant for Hotch in Saginaw could still be seen; the file she had fallen asleep before sending.


	10. Just A Phone Call Away

**A/N: This is a really long chapter, about twice the size of my usual ones. But it's worth it, I promise! Beta read, bunny-enhanced and partially written by the Gublerific editor frog!**

Tuesday

"Where the hell is that file?" Hotch and Morgan had just arrived at the Saginaw police station, only to find that no file had been received from Quantico. Flipping his phone open, he dialed the number to Garcia.

--

The sharp signal from the office phone woke Garcia with a start. Jerking her head up from the desk, she instantly remembered the file she had not yet sent to Hotch in Michigan, and knew who that call was coming from. Pushing the button to answer, she didn't even greet the person on the other side of the line before blurting out an apology. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I fell asleep!"

"_Just send it over right now, Garcia."_ Click. Hotch did not sound like he was in a good mood, and the blonde computer technician was thankful the call didn't last longer. Furiously tapping her keys, she transferred the file to Saginaw in less than a minute.

Gideon had woken up at the ring of the phone, and had walked up behind the much stressed woman by the keyboard. "You forgot to send the file?"

"No, I didn't forget!" Garcia leaned back in the chair after pressing "send". Beads of sweat were actually forming on her brow. "I fell asleep."

Gideon nodded. "It happens." He leaned over the desk. "Any new riddle?"

"Not yet. The screen is still blank."

Disheartened, the older agent closed his eyes and nodded slightly. "I'll go get us some more coffee. Do you want anything to eat?"

"Anything that doesn't have glaze on it."

Leaving, Gideon was still letting previous cases flash before his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he had forgotten.

--

Reid sat next to the wall, curling himself in as tight a ball as possible. He briefly thought of trying to find the small blanket he'd been given, but the overpowering heat and the fact that the blanket was full of salt changed his mind.

It wasn't just the dark that scared the young man. It was what the dark was _hiding_ that scared him.

He strained his ears, trying to make out any unfamiliar noises around him. There was nothing—just the steady hum of the heat vent blowing warm air around him.

_Whoever this UnSub is, they've put a lot of thought into all of this, _Reid thought. _Every move I make - or _don't_make - is carefully controlled. What I can't figure out is the pattern - I get "rewarded" for things I don't do and "punished" for things I don't do. Is there another aspect I'm not seeing to all this?_

A heavy fluttering sound rattled towards the ceiling. Reid couldn't tell if the noise - or whatever was making it - was inside his prison or not.

The young agent held his breath in fear. _What _is_ that? _he thought feverishly, praying that it was on the outside of the hatch door.

Soon Reid could feel his eyelids begin to droop. He wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep, but it was fear once again that stopped him from indulging in that simple desire. _What if the sprinklers turn back on? What if it gets even colder than before? Or what if there's something worse?_

The young man continued to sit, curled up in his tiny ball. Reid pulled his knees into his shirt, hoping to give him a little protection from whatever might come out at him.

----

Emily Prentiss raced through the short line at the MBS airport. She and JJ had just flown in, and they were eager to meet up with their colleagues to begin the search for Reid.

JJ had already beaten her to the punch. "Any news?" she asked as both she and Emily threw their bags in the back of the SUV.

"Rental car was paid in cash," Morgan replied. "However, we got a look at the contract - they weren't charged for any out-of-state driving. Wherever Reid is, he's in this state."

"Well, that's something," said JJ.

"Not really," said Hotch. "There's eighty-three counties in this state covering two peninsulas - that's a lot of ground to cover in a short time."

"Short time?" queried Emily.

"Judging from the amount of water in those bottles where Reid's being held, he's supposed to last another five or six days. And now it's been at least 3 or 4 days."

"Jesus…"

Suddenly there was a familiar chirp. "Talk to me, Garcia," said Morgan, his usual banter nowhere to be found.

"_I have Cate Carell's address, home and at work."_

"Beautiful."

"_She's also registered at a local university."_

"Great, send that over, will you?"

"_You will have it on your cell in one minute."_

"Thanks, doll. And Garcia? Don't fall asleep this time." Garcia merely muttered something inaudible before disconnecting, but Morgan took the answer as a "yes".

"What did she say, Morgan?" said Hotch.

"We've got an address for Cate Carell, she's sending it over right now.

"Great", Hotch said as Morgan fired up the engine.

----

Reid woke with a start. It was still pitch black, but thankfully he hadn't set off any alarms. The air was still, and the crushing silence that surrounded him threatened to bury him alive.

There was no way to tell how long he'd been asleep, but Reid knew that it hadn't been long enough. He thought about lying down on the concrete again, but the thought of the sprinklers was enough to keep him from doing so.

_Is this how I'm going to die? _Reid thought morbidly. _Am I nothing more than a proverbial "punching bag" for someone to take pleasure in abusing?_

He thought about that for a long time. _This can't be just about hurting me, _he concluded. _The "leverage" theory is probably close to the mark—the question is, leverage for __**whom?**_

Reid's mind ran over everyone he knew; everyone he had any sort of relationship with. He mentally crossed his parents off of the list—_Mom wasn't __**that**__ strict a professor, and my father…well, I doubt he ever mentions me all that much, wherever the hell he is._

He thought about his few friends outside of work. None of them made any sense either—_either I don't' see them much or they're as solitary as I am most of the time._

Reid settled upon his closest relationships—those of him and his colleagues. _There might be something there, _he thought.

_But who?_

He mentally ran through each one.

_Emily's too new; I like her well enough, but we're not all that close yet._

_JJ…well, I really can't see her making someone __**that**__ angry, even during a press conference. Besides, if she were the target, the UnSub would probably have gone after one of her nieces or nephews…she talks about them all the time, and they seem really close…_

_Garcia—who on earth doesn't love Garcia?_

_Morgan's got a few enemies, but none that would go after anyone. They'd be more likely to target Morgan personally, or go after his mom or his sisters, than go through all of this…_

_Hotch must have a list of people who'd do something like this a mile long, what with his being a lawyer as well as an agent. Again, though, you'd think they'd go after someone closer, like his wife or his son…those would get an instant response, no question…_

_Gideon…_

And suddenly, Reid had it. He'd cracked that much, at least.

_Okay, so this is about Gideon. And the UnSub is using me._

He used this newfound knowledge to find the courage to stand up in the blinding darkness. "That's it, isn't it?" he called out, knowing full well that he wouldn't receive an answer. "This is about Gideon, and I'm the leverage, aren't I?"

As expected, no answer came. "Aren't I?" he repeated, more to himself this time than to anyone else.

There was no way for Reid to discern how long he'd been in this cell—he knew it had been at least three or four days at the most—but the young man was beginning to feel as if he were the last person alive. He didn't mind being alone—he could keep his own company, and had on many an occasion, but the knowledge that he would be alone for an interminable period was beginning to wear at him.

_What I wouldn't give to hear another voice,_ he thought. _Or a bird singing. Or waves crashing into a beach. Anything but the sound of silence and my own voice._

However, there was no way to hear any of those things. There wasn't even an annoying drip from the sprinkler heads to take Reid's mind off his loneliness—there was just the infinite darkness and the sound of his own breathing.

Frustrated, he began to do something no one had ever heard him do before—he began to sing, very softly. There was a song he remembered from when he was a child; it wasn't much, but he thought the tune fit his situation.

"Now I'm alone/the telephone

Don't tell me you don't need me/

I ask you why/you tell me lies

And say the truth will hurt me…"

His voice was barely audible, and it hitched in a few places where he fought the urge to break down into tears, but he continued until he'd finished the entire song. He had never felt so alone in his life.

----

Morgan and Hotch arrived at the Carell house just after 2PM. Closely followed by their female colleagues, they knocked on the massive oak door and stood back for it to hopefully be opened.

Moments later a middle aged brunette opened the door, looking rather confused. "Yes?"

"Is this the residence of a Cate Carell?" Hotch asked.

The woman looked even more confused. A man in a suit, two well dressed women and a black man looking like he just stepped off a runway were standing on her door step asking about her daughter. "Yes, she's my daughter. Has something happened?"

"I'm agent Hotchner, we're with the FBI", he continued as they all showed their credentials. "We'd like to ask your daughter a few questions."

Shaking her head in a mix of shock and puzzle, the woman took a few steps back inviting the agents into her hallway. "My daughter left on a trip last Tuesday with her friends. What is this all about?"

Emily looked at Morgan, who took a few steps closer to the woman. "Ma'am, I'm agent Morgan. We have reason to believe your daughter may be involved in a kidnapping."

"She's been kidnapped?!" The woman pressed her hands against her chest in sudden fright.

"No, no ma'am, that's not what I meant."

"What agent Morgan is trying to say", JJ broke in, "...is that we need to find her. There is a possibility that she has information relating to a kidnapping of a federal agent."

"My lord! Not my little Cate, she'd never do anything like that!" The woman shook her head resolutely. "You must have the wrong Cate."

"Have you talked to your daughter in the last three days, Mrs. Carell?" Hotch despised parents who idolized their children, painting them up to be perfect little angels when in fact they were out maiming and killing the public. Luckily he managed to repress his feelings from showing in his very controlled tone of speech.

"No, I haven't. She said she were going on a girls-only trip with her friends Angelica and Tracy; they were gonna be back in a two weeks."

Morgan sharply turned his head to face that of his superior. _Angelica._

"Ma'am, is there anyway we could see Cate's room?" Emily moved closer to Cate's mother, trying to play the woman-to-woman card.

"I don't think... I... No. No you can't." Crossing her arms over her chest, she made her point quite clear. "You have the wrong Cate. My daughter would never do anything like that. It was nice to meet you agent Hotchner. Agents. Good day."

Getting the drift, the four agents politely left the house, only to stop on the porch in front of the door. Hearing it slam shut behind them, Hotch turned to JJ. "JJ, call for a warrant. We need to check that house. It's the best lead we have."

JJ nodded and pulled up her phone as she walked towards the black SUV accompanied by Emily.

Morgan and Hotch slowly walked down the path leading to the sidewalk. "So Cate and Angelica _are_ in this together. But who's Tracy?"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll know more after searching Cate's room. We just have to wait for the warrant. That should be done in an hour or so."

"Should we go to the University? If we find out what classes she took and talk to some of her classmates, we might be able to find out where she was going."

"Good idea. Emily and JJ can perform the search with some of the MI field operatives. Let's go towards University Center."

Jumping into the black SUV, the two men sped off towards the neighboring town, both fully intent to find the mystery that was Cate Carell.

--

The _creaking _sound of the hatch opening pulled Reid out of his reverie. He didn't bother to get up - after all, it wasn't like the person on the other end was going to actually _say_ anything to him, anyway.

Reid took in the familiar sounds of the line dropping and the basket hitting the floor. The small object tapped against the concrete floor, signaling the young agent to remove its contents.

Heaving a sigh, Reid picked himself up and tried to find the little basket in the dark. He ran his hands over the now-dry concrete, searching for the object he couldn't see.

After finding the note inside, the basket was quickly lifted and the metal door sealed tightly shut. A few moments later, the lights came back on—though they were so dim that the word _light_ was merely a formality.

Reid took the note in his hands and struggled to make out he words in the too-dim light that he was allowed.

_I bet you're lonely,_ the note began. _It's isolating to hear nothing but the sound of your own voice, isn't it?_

_Yes, _Reid thought desperately.

_Perhaps I can help you with that - at least for a minute or two. But, it's going to cost you._

Reid shuddered. He'd already given up his pants - what more would this UnSub demand from him?

_I will give you the opportunity to make one phone call. The phone will disconnect automatically after one minute. You may call anyone you want. _

_A phone call?!_ Reid's heart jumped in his chest. He would be able to call someone; tell them what had happened and ask for help! _But what is the UnSub going to want in return? _He continued reading the note and found his answer.

_In return, I want your shirt. It is up to you if you choose to take the offer. However, it's only good until the door opens. It is your decision, Dr. Reid._

Reid's heart was pounding. A phone call. His shirt seemed like a reasonable price for the opportunity to contact someone and tell them about his predicament. But then again... he would be nearly naked, and if the temperature dropped again he would have nothing in the way of protection.

He had the blanket, though. It wasn't much, but neither was his shirt. The young doctor had only moments to decide whether to take the offer or not, and his mind was racing.

_If I give up my shirt, I'll have no cover. But if I call Garcia, she could trace the call. They'd be here in no time._

As the hatch once again opened with a deafening creak and the basked was lowered to the floor, Reid had made his decision. It was worth it. He unbuttoned his shirt and placed it carefully in the basket. The basket disappeared, and there was only silence.

Waiting anxiously, the young agent wrapped his arms around himself. Despite the extreme humidity and warmth in the cell, he felt strangely cold. Knowing that someone was watching every move he made sent an eerie feeling down his spine. He felt like he was in a showcase, caught in a display area with no chance to escape.

Placing one foot on top of the other, he peered up into the pitch black opening above him. A few moments later, the basket slowly returned, stopping chest level of the young agent. He looked inside.

A cell phone.

--

The courtyard at CMU was much like one on any other college campus the agents had been on in recent years; it was square, with paved pathways leading towards brick halls of learning. They had caught up to a young woman, Jenny Hansen, who was a friend of the Carell girl.

"She's been talking about the trip for a long time." The young blonde standing before Hotch and Morgan carried a big pile of books, and at this point looked very perplexed. It obviously wasn't an every day occurrence that a couple of FBI-agents came up to her on school grounds asking questions about her friends.

"Did she say where she was going?" Morgan asked.

"New York. She was going with some friends of hers coming in from overseas."

"Overseas?" Hotch flinched.

"Yeah, she's been talking to a couple of girls from somewhere in Europe on the internet for about a year. One of them has already visited her about 6 months ago, but she went back again. This time they were both coming."

"Do you know where the girls came from, aside from Europe?"

"No, sorry."

"Are the girls named Angelica and Tracy?"

"Yeah, that's them. Look, has something happened to Cate?"

"No, but we need to reach her as soon as possible."

"Well, you can have her cell phone number, I have it right here." The young blonde flipped her phone open and relayed the numbers to Morgan. Dialing, he took a few steps away from the others.

Hotch turned to the blonde again. "Has Cate been acting strange lately? Any changes in her behavior?"

"No... Just that she's been really happy lately because her friends were coming."

"Alright. Thank you, Jenny." Hotch left the girl and joined Morgan. "Anything?"

"It's ringing."

--

JJ and Emily had obtained the search warrant and were now going through Cate Carell's room, all during the constant rambling from Cate's mother about how innocent her daughter was.

"Hey Emily, look at this." JJ held up a photography in a frame. The image showed three young women standing in a park holding balloons, all smiling. "Does this girl look like Angelica to you?"

Emily walked over to her colleague. "Yeah... But it's not a spitting image."

"Dye and cut the hair, add fake tits and a nose job."

"It's her."

JJ took the photograph over to Cate's mother. "When was this taken?"

"Last year when Cate went to Europe for spring break."

"Which one of these girls is your daughter?"

Annoyed, Mrs. Carell pointed to the picture. "The one in the middle."

"And the other girls?"

"That is Angelica", Mrs. Carell said and pointed the blonde on Cate's left, "...and that's Tracy." She pointed to the petite brunette on the right.

"Thank you, Mrs. Carell." JJ went back into Cate's room, joining Emily. "It's Angelica."

Suddenly a screechy version of _The way I are_ began playing somewhere in the room. Emily looked at her colleague. "Is that your cell?"

"No." JJ went over to the desk, picking up the small Motorola that was making the noise. "It's Morgan's number!"

"Well, answer it."

"Morgan?"

"_JJ?" _

The blonde agent could hear the confusion in her co-worker's voice. "I'm guessing you got Cate's number from someone."

"_Yeah, a girl at CMU. Where are you?"_

"We're at the Carell house. She left her phone on her desk, so no help there."

"_Keep searching. There has to be something there."_

"Yeah. Call if you got something."

"_You got it."_

As JJ put the phone down on the desk, she noticed a notebook beside the small laptop. Pulling it out from under a pile of school books, she read the writing on it. "6 1 C4445 415T550 127." She frowned. "Does that sound like homework to you?"

Emily shook her head. "No, it doesn't. Call Garcia and give her those numbers, see what she can come up with. And bring that photo when we leave, we need the faces."

JJ lifted her phone to call the computer genius of Quantico. "Hey, Garcia, how is it going?"

"_Lousy. There's no new riddle, and we are feeling utterly useless. Please tell me you've got work for me."_

"I have. I'm gonna read you some numbers now that I want you to run. We found them on Cate Carell's desk."

"_Shoot."_

"6 1 C4445 415T550 127. You got it?"

"_Got it."_

"I'll also scan and send over a picture of Cate, Angelica and a friend of theirs named Tracy. See what you can get on her."

"_Your wish is my command. JJ?"_

"Yeah?"

"_We'll find him... Right?"_

"Of course we will. Talk to you later." Hanging up, she hardly had any faith herself in the statement she had just made. Reid seemed to be lost forever. But they still had to try their very best.

--

Reid took the phone and began dialing Garcia's number. But then he stopped. As much as he wanted to hear Garcia's voice, there was one voice he wanted to hear more. Gideon's. He'd have Garcia trace the call afterwards, that was for sure. The young doctor needed to hear the voice of his mentor; needed to tell him what had happened to him.

Dialing, Reid felt his heart beat straight out of his chest. He was finally going to talk to someone! And to Gideon at that! A few signals went by before he heard the hoarse voice he had come to know during his years at the FBI.

"_Gideon."_

"Gideon, oh thank God!" he blurted out, close to tears, his voice cracking. "Please help me, I've been locked in a cell somewhere and..."

"_Hello?"_

"Gideon, it's me, Reid! Please help me!" Reid nearly yelled in the small cell phone.

"_Is there anyone there?"_

Reid realized to his horror that the phone was a one-way communicator. He could hear _Gideon_, but Gideon couldn't hear _him_. He broke down crying on the floor, feeling every last bit of hope leaving him with his tears. Crying silently, he tried to listen to his colleague; take in every word he said before he got sick of the silence and hung up. But as Reid listened, some hope returned to him. He could hear Gideon talking to Garcia.

"_Can you get a trace on this call?"_

"_No problem."_

"_Reid? Is that you? Talk to me, son."_

Reid wanted to; he wanted to so badly, but all he could muster were small whimpers and sniffles, knowing that anything he said would not be heard anyway. He simply listened.

"_Reid, if that is you – we're on it, trust me. We will find you. Don't lose heart, you are stronger than this. We are all working this one. Reid... I'm sorry. This is..."_

Click.

The phone had disconnected and the line was once again silent. Reid's tears changed from those of despair to those of anger. He stood up, clutching the phone in his hand, and glared at the camera.

"Why?! Why did you do that?!" Reid was furious, nearly screaming at the small piece of technique peering at him. "You bastard!" In rage, the young doctor flung the cell phone at the camera, missing it with mere inches, and it smashed into a thousand pieces against the wall.

Seconds later, he realized what he had done. He had destroyed the only means Garcia would have to track him, and on top of that – he may very well have angered his captors. Wearing nothing but his boxers and socks, the young agent backed up against the wall the farthest away from the camera, pressing himself up to the near scalding concrete, arms once again wrapped around him. _Oh, God... What did I just do?_

--

"Hello? Reid? Reid?" Gideon hung up the phone. "It got disconnected. Did you get a trace?"

Garcia nodded. "Yes and no."

"What do you mean 'yes and no'?"

"I got a trace, yes – but I very much doubt that Reid is calling from a payphone in Moscow. The phone call was bounced around so many times it felt more like a ping-pong game than a conversation."

Moments later, a message lit up on the screen. Both agents huddled up and read it.

_Having fun with the phone company, are we? This was Dr. Reid's reward for being good. Unfortunately, he misbehaved badly when the call was over and will now be punished._

_You will now get a new riddle. I have been generous with them so far, but now I will only give you one per day, and you will have exactly one hour to solve it. Otherwise there will be consequences._

Gideon and Garcia watched in dismay as the message dissolved and was replaced by a URL and yet another textbox.

The older agent slowly shook his head. "Here we go again."

**A/N: I know what everyone is thinking right now: What will Reid's punishment going to be? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. If you want to see the riddle recieved by the BAU, go to my profile and click the link that says Riddle Number 4. Can you solve it?**


	11. Crime and Punishment

**A/N: Beta read and bunny enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog! Hope you like it, things are beginning to get both better and worse...**

"It's Braille!" Garcia began typing her keys at an insane speed. "Give me five minutes and I will have this one worked out!"

Gideon nodded while pondering the quote preceding the passage in Braille. It was from the Bible. A blind man leading a blind man was doomed to fail. Who were the blind people? _She sees us as the blind man. Who are we leading?_

"Here we go! It's a line from the song _Amazing Grace_, it says 'I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see'. I'll type it in."

"No." Gideon's eyes had caught on the last symbol in the sentence. "It's not the answer."

"But that's what it says, and the riddle says 'Do you see what I mean?'. How can it not be the answer?"

"Because that's not what it says."

"What do you mean, I just looked it up, it's..."

"The last symbol... It's not a period."

"Yes it is, look here." Garcia pointed at the online Braille alphabet she had used to decipher the message. "Two vertical dots; it's a period."

"No. That's a 'K'."

"What?"

"Look at the alphabet. The symbol for a period is the exact same symbol as the one for a 'K'. It doesn't say 'see', it says 'seek'."

"Well, what is she seeking?" Garcia looked confused.

"Revenge."

Typing the single word in the textbox, the blonde computer technician hit ENTER and the two waited to find out whether it was the correct answer.

_Correct._

Moments later, the screen shifted and once again and the two agents could see their colleague in his cell, this time wearing nothing but underwear and socks. He was pressed up against the wall, a look of fear in his eyes. Garcia closed her eyes and sighed. "Oh, Reid..."

Gideon wanted to reach out and touch the screen. He absolutely hated seeing his proverbial son being in so much pain and being so frightened. _This is because of me,_ he thought. _I must have made someone very angry for them to go through all this trouble to get revenge on me._

Just a few second after the camera had been switched on, the room went black. A moment later the picture returned to the screen, only this time it was shot in night vision, making the entire cell look a shadowy green. The two agents could see their young co-worker pressing harder up against the wall, fear in his eyes. His mouth was wide open and they could practically see him hyperventilating. Both Garcia and Gideon knew very well that Reid's greatest fear was the dark, and it was sheer torture to watch the poor boy struggle with his anxiety.

"What is this? We solved the clue; he's supposed to give Reid a reward." Garcia was confused.

"No..." Gideon moved closer to the screen. "This is _our _reward. We get to see him. Remember what the message said. The UnSub feels that Reid has misbehaved, and is going to punish him."

"Oh, God... And we have to watch."

"Come on, Reid..." Gideon whispered to the screen. "You can do this. Hang in there." He turned to Garcia. "You don't have to watch."

"Yes I do. He's my friend too."

Gideon nodded and turned back to the screen, where something seemed to have jolted the young agent, as he moved along the wall into a corner, turning his head back and forth.

Suddenly, they saw what had spooked Reid. A ladder fell down from the opening in the ceiling, and someone was making their way down.

--

Reid could hear the hatch open, and tried to move away as far as possible, but the pitch black darkness was just as terrifying as the fact that something was making its way into his cell. His eyes were wide open and he tried to see something; anything. But there was nothing but a thick veil of opaque blackness before his eyes.

Suddenly, he could hear the sound of footsteps on the concrete floor. Light, slow footsteps moving around somewhere in the cell. His heart was pounding straight out of his chest as he wrapped his arms around him and hunched over a bit, trying to shield himself from whatever was coming.

Regretting that he had backed into a corner, Reid tried to move away, but the instant he took a step he felt a hard punch in his stomach. Doubling over gasping for breath, he felt hands lift him up to a standing position, slamming him up against the wall.

Fear struck the young doctor even harder than the presumed fist in his stomach. There was someone in his cell, and he had "misbehaved". Was this going to be his punishment? _Is he going to beat me to a pulp, or even worse...?_ Reid tried to cover his head with his arms, but whoever was holding him against the wall had such a firm grip on him that moving was not an option.

The young agent closed his eyes, which were filling up with tears, and whimpered a pathetic plea. "Please... please, don't hurt me." His voice cracked halfway through the sentence as his tears broke free and began streaming down his face.

But there was nothing more. Just two strong hands restraining him and pinning him against the wall. The room was completely silent, except the sobs and whimpers of the young doctor. He began wondering what was going on. _What is this? Hit me already and get it over with! Oh God, no – don't hit me. Help me, please, someone!_

Suddenly, Reid felt something being placed in his right hand. He let his fingers probe it carefully and came to the conclusion that it was not something he would want in his hand at the moment.

It was a pair of scissors.

Before he could get any funny ideas, he felt a third hand run through his hair. At that moment he realized there was no use in trying to make a run for it, or using the scissors for anything other than what the UnSub wanted. _There are at least two people in here. If I try anything, I'm dead within a matter of seconds. But what do they want me to do? _No matter how much of a genius he was, he was too scared to think straight.

A gentle tug at his hair gave him the answer.

_Scissors... Hair... No!_

He shook his head violently. "No, no I won't!" he balked; trying to protect the small piece of himself he still had left.

The young doctor felt himself being pulled away from the wall, and shoved back up against it with full force, nearly knocking the wind out of him. His head hit the concrete wall behind him and a sharp pain shot through his temples. Like on cue, Reid felt a hand in his hair, this time not tugging so gently, but yanking it rather roughly.

Balking once again, the young agent found himself slammed up against the wall a third time, then followed silence for a moment. Through the silence came a sound Reid had heard numerous times before, but never had feared so much as he did at this moment. The familiar sound of a gun being cocked.

He froze, realizing that he had absolutely nothing to defend himself against the people in his cell. He was outnumbered, and they had a weapon. On top of that, Reid was absolutely sure that they had night vision goggles, enabling them to see through the pitch black. Reid didn't have that luxury; he was as blind as a bat. The fear rushing through the young doctor's system was making him shiver uncontrollably.

Reid felt another violent tug at his hair followed by the sensation of cold metal pressing against his temple. Tears running down his face, he slowly lifted the scissors to his head. He felt the grip around his arms loosen as he reached up, only to be replaced by an even firmer grip around his throat.

Slowly, he took a lock of hair in his hand; gingerly letting the blades of the scissors cut through it. Letting go of the hair in his hand, it fell to the floor.

He repeated the movements until there was nearly nothing left on his head. Every time he dropped a lock on the concrete below him, he felt as if he was losing more and more of himself; as if his entire identity was about to be erased. The tears flowing from his eyes, seemed to come from a bottomless well, and all that could be heard in the cell was the young agent's sobbing and whimpers of utter humiliation.

As he ran his free hand over his head, he felt the short tests of hair sticking out from its smooth surface. There was almost nothing left. And apparently it was enough, as he felt the scissors being taken from his hand. Instead he felt something else being shoved there in its place. After a few moments of touching the object, Reid realized it was the all too familiar basket, and it was empty. Before he could ponder over its use, he felt himself being pushed down on the floor. A hand grabbed his and shoved into a pile of hair.

The young agent began to cry, feeling what was once his hair laying lifeless on the ground. _They want me to clean it up..._ Sobs wracked the young man's frame as his hands blindly searched the floor for his shorn locks.

"Why... why are you doing this to me?" he cautiously asked his assailants, only to be rewarded with a slap straight over the face. Reid could taste blood. He was dead scared of these people, as he had no idea what might happen to him.

He felt so humiliated, crawling on the floor looking for his own hair to put in the basket. Suddenly he felt the basket being pulled from his hand. He had apparently picked up every piece of hair there was. Still sitting on the floor, crying, he heard the footsteps move further away.

He was relieved to hear them go, but something inside him screamed for them not to go. It was the first human contact he'd had in days.

"Please", he tried, his voice cracking. "Please, for the love of God, talk to me, tell me why I'm here! Tell me what's going on! What have I done!?" There was desperation in the young man's voice as he cried out to the people in his cell.

The footsteps changed direction, and rapidly returned to the young agent sitting on the floor.

Reid's eyes were wide with anticipation. Would he get an answer?

The only answer he got came in the form of a violent strike to his face, causing him to tumble over on the hard floor; knocking him unconscious.

The two persons who had visited Reid's cell made their way up the opening using a rope ladder, and then slammed the hatch shut, sealing it tight. The young agent was once again alone in the darkness, but at least this time he was blissfully unaware. Blood from the young man's mouth dripped slowly down onto the floor beneath his head.

--

Garcia and Gideon had been watching all through the assault, and became witnesses to the grave humiliation of young Dr. Reid. When one of the UnSubs had delivered the finishing blow to their young co-worker, Garcia had turned away and covered her face with her hands, crying violently.

Gideon watched the screen until it went black. He then let his head drop and his eyes fall shut. A single tear slowly made its way down the older agent's rugged cheek; it fell in silence.

--

The remaining part of the BAU sat at the police station in Saginaw, MI. For the last few hours they had been working with making up some form of profile for the UnSubs – who were within an arm's reach of being identified. All they needed was a shred of information as to where the women had taken Reid. Suddenly, Hotch's phone began chirping.

"Hotchner."

"_It's Gideon. We got to see Reid again."_

"How did he look?" Putting Gideon on speaker phone, he placed his cell on the table before him.

"_It's bad, Hotch. They've taken his clothes; he's in nothing but his underwear. He called me. It was some sort of reward he got. He could hear me, but I couldn't hear him."_

"Jesus Christ..." Morgan crossed his arms, a grim look on his face.

"_We solved the clue, but when the camera came on he was being..."_

"Being what?" Hotch's voice was less than patient.

"_He wa__s…being "punished". There were two UnSubs in the cell with them, one had a weapon. They abused him and... and they forced him to cut all his hair off with a pair of scissors."_

Emily closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to keep from crying. This was not the time, they had work to do. _Oh, Reid..._

"_When the camera shut down, he was alone in the basement, knocked unconscious by one of the UnSubs who hit him with the butt of a gun."_

There was nothing but silence on Gideon's side of the line, except the constant typing on the keyboard by Garcia.

"_Hotch?"_

"Yes, Gideon?"

"_Tell me what you have."_

Hotch cleared his throat in a try to regain some composure before he began debriefing his colleagues. "We have three possible UnSubs, Angelica, Cate and now a girl named Tracy. Cate and the others were supposed to go on a trip to New York for a few weeks."

"But since both Cate and Angelica were on the plane to and from Fredericksburg, there's no way they're in New York." Emily.

"The rental car wasn't charged for any out-of-state driving, so Reid is definitely somewhere in Michigan, probably close to Saginaw, since that's where they got off the plane. They couldn't have gone far with a casket-sized trunk." Morgan.

"I've scanned a picture of the three suspects and I'm sending it over as we speak." JJ had borrowed a computer and was tapping away. "Cate's the one in the middle. Can you ask Garcia to run the girl on the right through the system? All we have on her is that her name is Tracy and that she's from overseas."

"_I will. We're __receiving the file now."_

"Any luck with the numbers we gave you?" Emily

"_Not yet", _came Garcia's not so chipper voice. _"It's gibberish. Just a bunch of numbers squished together, I can't make any sense of it at all."_

"I know there's something there", said Emily. "Keep trying."

"_Will do."_

"_Call us if anything comes up, okay Hotch?" _Gideon's voice was hoarse and a little unstable. He had obviously been shaken badly by what he had seen on the screen.

"We will." Click.

Morgan shook his head. "What do we do now?"

"Well, there's an APB out for the rental, and the girls's pictures have been sent to every police station and field office in the state. If they so much as move, we'll get them." Emily leaned over the table, grabbing her coffee cup.

"And if they don't?" JJ couldn't take her eyes off the window. Outside, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and kids were playing on the playground across the street. There was a middle school there, and all the children were dressed in school uniforms. Laughter and yelling could be heard through the open window. A butterfly fluttered by the window. It was all so perfect. And still, all JJ wanted to do was cry.

--

"Alright, here comes the file. Let's see what we can find out about this Tracy girl." Garcia opened the picture of the three girls standing in the park. As she tapped her keyboard to emphasize the girl on the right, Gideon stopped her.

"Wait."

"What?" Garcia frowned as she looked at her superior.

"That girl." He pointed to Angelica. "Her name isn't Angelica."

"What are you talking about, Gideon?" There was confusion in the blonde computer wizard's voice.

"Sienna..." Without another word he bolted out through the door, heading up to his office, leaving a perplexed Garcia behind.

"Sienna?"

**A/N again: Should I be running for cover for angry villagers with torches and pitch forks because of the hair-deal...?**


	12. Out of the Darkness

**A/N: Beta read and bunny enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog! Now let's see what Gideon was talking about...!**

About 15 minutes later Gideon returned to Garcia's office holding a picture frame. He held it out for his colleague to take. "Sienna Nolan."

"My God."

The picture in Garcia's hands showed a young woman with long blonde hair and glasses. Processing the picture in her mind, she mentally compared it to the woman they had seen Reid leave the bar with. Add a few years, a nose job and cut and dye the hair, and it was the same woman.

Gideon suddenly had a feeling of victory rushing through his veins. Their UnSub was no longer an UnSub. "Get Hotch on the phone. And do a search on Sienna Nolan."

Not two seconds passed before Garcia's fingers were once again on fire, flying over the keyboard.

--

Reid's head ached as his eyelids began fluttering; bringing him back from his unconsciousness. He drew a few breaths before opening his eyes completely. To his relief, the dim lights were on once again, and the darkness was gone.

As he slowly sat up, he remembered what had happened, and running a hand over his now nearly bare head, he confirmed it had been no nightmare. The young doctor was still stuck in the same cell, only now he had even less of anything. Less clothes, less hair, less courage and less self esteem.

His time in the cell had made him think about his own worth. He wondered if this was all he was good for, to be a plaything – a horrible excuse for a mental punching bag. The young man closed his aching eyes, and repressed more tears. He felt like an animal.

He felt something else as well, this time in his mouth. Probing the inside of his mouth with his tongue, he spat out on the floor the object causing the feeling. It was a tooth - a molar, from the looks of it.

Reid touched his face. The left side of it felt like ground beef. A large wound had opened just below the cheek bone and it was bleeding - not gushing, but steadily. Feeling his nose, he came to the conclusion that it was broken and filled with coagulating blood. The swelling around his left eye and the bump on his head was not nearly as bad as the bleeding wound on his chin. The young doctor knew he had to irrigate it to avoid an infection, and that was going to cost him valuable water.

After trying to pick himself up off the floor, he felt a huge chunk of not quite coagulated blood slide down his throat. He tried to spit it out, but the metallic taste in his mouth made his stomach churn, and he ran for the toilet. He vomited violently into the bowl; the smell making him gag even worse.

The young agent lay over the soiled toilet until he was dry heaving. Slumping down on the floor, he felt bullets of sweat running down his face. _Oh God... I'm losing so much fluid. At least I'm still sweating, once you stop sweating you have become dangerously dehydrated and are at 58 risk to die, depending on how soon you get medical attention..._

He strenuously turned his head towards the water bottles by the wall. The feeling of despair returned as he realized that the punishment he had received so far had not been enough. The UnSubs had taken one of his water bottles. Now he had only a little less than 2 bottles left.

Curling up into a ball on the floor, still sitting up, he once again began rocking back and forth. _Dear God - when is this nightmare going to end?_

--

Just a few minutes after Hotch had ended his conversation with Gideon, his phone began chirping again. Pressing speaker phone, he answered. "Hotchner."

"_Hotch; I know who the UnSub is!" _Gideon's excited voice broke through the speaker.

Hotch looked at the phone in his hand. "Angelica Monroe, yes, we know."

"_No, her name __**isn't**__ Angelica Monroe. Her name is Sienna Nolan. She is the daughter of an UnSub I caught seven years ago in Denver. It didn't even cross my mind that she could be the one. Her father had maimed and murdered nine people in 24 days, including his wife, Sienna's mother."_

"How do you know this?" Hotch wondered what had jolted the older, usually perceptive agent.

"_The picture JJ sent. It was taken before she altered her appearance, and her face. I almost didn't recognize her at first. Garcia is pulling up information as we speak."_

"_So I am!" _came Garcia's voice, this time a bit more chipper as she felt she was actually being useful in the hunt for Reid. _"And here I have it!"_

"Go on, Garcia."

"_Sienna Nolan, 26. Her father Christopher Nolan was arrested in 2001 for nine murders, and sent to an institution for the criminally insane. He died __a year and a half ago; he committed suicide."_

"That could be the stressor", Morgan said turning to Hotch. "Remember the girl at the University told us that Cate's been talking to Angelica and Tracy for about a year."

"_Sienna is listed as a resident in the US__, but her records show that she left the country and hasn't returned."_

"At least not in her own name. Where did she go?" Emily asked impatiently.

"_Sweden. Fun and really incriminating fact: the town she chose to go to has a nickname that directly translates to 'Smith's town'. How about that for leaving clues behind?"_

"Do you have anything on the other girl, Tracy?"

"_Only a copy of a passport made as she entered the US. Tracy Graham, 24, from Scotland."_

"Overseas." Hotch nodded.

"_Can you handle more good news or should I stop here?"_

"Give us everything you've got,

"_Well, I cross checked flights with the numbers you gave me, turns out 'C4445' was actually Cate's and Ang... Ah, Sienna's seats on the flight into Fredericksburg last Friday__, seat C-44 and C45. '415' was their estimated time of arrival, and 'T550' was short for 'Tracy' and the numbers were her ETA at MBS Airport last Friday. It was much easier when I knew what I was looking for! The '6', '1' and the '127' part is still a mystery, but I'm on it."_

"Good girl, Garcia!" Morgan was very proud of his blonde colleague. She had managed to ungarble garble once again.

"_I have also hacked into Sienna's medical records. Says here she's been seeing a therapist since her father was locked away, but cut off her sessions a year ago."_

"Speaking in terms of time, everything adds up with the father's suicide." Hotch scribbled a few lines in his notebook. "Do you have Sienna's therapist's name and number? I think we need to have a talk to him."

"_His name is Dr. Rodney Hall, in Denver. I'll send the number to your cell in two seconds. You should have it right about... Now."_

"Thanks Garcia. Call me back if you hear anything or see anything from Reid."

"_Will do."_

Hotch turned to JJ after closing his phone. "You and Prentiss are going to Denver."

The women nodded and left the office, sights set on the airport and the BAU jet.

--

Reid had just cleaned his wound in as little water as he possibly could. Still, it felt like too much. The stench of vomit had filled the cell, and the young doctor felt anything but well. His face throbbed and ached with every move he made.

The temperature in the cell had decreased to a more normal state, and he began feeling the lack of clothes. Not that he was cold, but it would have been nice to have something more than boxers and socks on. Looking around the cell for the thousandth time, he noticed small clumps of hair in the far left corner. He ran his hand over his head again, hoping to feel his usual mane – but there was nothing. Just short, uneven bristles sticking out from his scalp.

Tears began filling his eyes, and the young doctor broke down on the floor. His face hurt, his body hurt, his stomach hurt and most of all – his inside hurt. He had been so belittled and degraded in the last few days that he didn't feel able to look anyone in the eye for as long as he lived. The state he had been reverted to - the state of a common house cat - was not something he wanted to share with others.

--

Seven hours later, JJ and Emily walked into the office of Dr. Rodney Hall in Denver. "Dr. Hall, I'm agent Prentiss and this is agent Jareau. We talked on the phone." Showing their credentials they shook the man's hand.

"Yes, the FBI people, please sit down." The short, stacked and balding man in front of them motioned them to sit, but both women declined the offer. "Now, you were looking for a patient of mine?"

"Yes, a miss Sienna Nolan. What can you tell us about her?"

"Nothing, unfortunately. Doctor-patient confidentiality, you know." The frog-like man gave them a superior smile as he folded his hands in his lap.

"You really think we'd come all the way from Michigan to Denver _without_ the paperwork?" JJ threw a specially designed warrant on the desk in front of Dr. Hall.

Reading it, he looked up at the women before him. "Is this for real?"

"We have strong reasons to believe that your patient SiennaNolan has kidnapped one of our agents and is now holding him captive while torturing him in ways that could stand the best shrink's hair on end, all on camera, letting us watch. Whatever information you have on her, you tell us, and you tell us _now_." Emily was in no mood for games at this point.

Taking off his glasses, the frog man leaned back in the chair, a worried look on his face. "I never thought she was _serious_..."

"Not serious about what?" JJ leaned over the desk, looking the man square in the eyes.

Dr. Hall shook his head slowly. "After her father was institutionalized for the murders, Sienna was put in foster care. After a year, she was referred to me by the state and I took her on as a patient. We've been working together for 5 years."

Dr. Hall rested his head in his hands as he leaned over the desk. "After her mother had been murdered, by her father, a lot of fuses in Sienna's mind simply…snapped." He paused to breathe. "Sienna was... she had been molested in the foster home, by her foster father, among other things. The girl had too many cracks to ever make whole again; I just tried to make her function. We made many breakthroughs, but never enough to bring her back to the person she once was."

"After..." he began, only to continue the sentence with a deep sigh, "...after her father died, she developed a full blown Elektra-syndrome."

"An Elektra-syndrome?" JJ looked confused.

"It's when a daughter falls romantically in love with her father. In this case, Sienna idolized her father; she lifted him to the skies, completely forgetting that he was responsible for both her mother's _and_ eight other people's deaths. She became more and more obsessed with getting vengeance on whoever was responsible for putting him away; who eventually, at least in her mind, was the reason of his suicide."

"Gideon", Emily said facing JJ.

"I thought we had the vengeance-thoughts under control, but about a year ago she simply stopped coming to our sessions.

"And now she's somewhere in Michigan making life worse than a living hell for one of our best friends." JJ crossed her arms over her chest.

"Correct me if I'm wrong", Emily began, "...but don't you have a responsibility as a doctor to notify if someone is in danger from your patient?"

"Well, how was I supposed to know that she was serious?" Dr. Hall haplessly flung his hands over his head.

"You're a doctor; it's your _job_ to know if people _are_ serious. We'll call you if we need anything further." Emily didn't even bother to shake frog-man's hand before she and JJ left the office.

Walking down the hall, JJ hung up the phone after calling her boss and telling him everything Dr. Hall had told them about Sienna. Hotch was going to relay the information to Gideon. JJ turned to her colleague. "Should we spend the night here or sleep on the plane?"

"It's a 5 hour flight; we can sleep on the plane."


	13. Be a Good Boy

**A/N: Wow, I wasn't sure about being able to continue this story, seeing there is an angry mob outside my door holding pitch forks and torches, threatening to burn me at a stake for cutting Reid's hair off! Anyways, here is the next chapter, smoking fresh - beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog! Enjoy!**

Wednesday

It was 9 AM and JJ and Emily had just arrived back at the Saginaw police station after having been sent by Hotch to a hotel to rest the night before. The plane ride across the country hadn't given any of them any sleep as they were both trying to figure out how to find Reid.

Entering the small conference room, the women were greeted by Morgan and Hotch who held a bunch of files. "They're Sienna Nolan's medical records. We had them sent over after you called yesterday. I have a feeling there's something in there." Hotch split the files in two and handed them to the women.

"Garcia called about half an hour ago, still no luck with the last numbers in the note we got from Cate's room, and there's still no new riddle." Morgan flipped through a bunch of papers.

"Do we have _anything _new to go on since yesterday?" JJ sat down beside Morgan, dropping the files on the table in front of her.

"You're looking at it." Morgan tapped the pile of papers.

"Great." JJ grabbed the top five sets of records and began flipping through them.

Hotch rummaged through a big cardboard file box. "Dr. Hall tapes all his sessions, and he was more than willing to share them with us. You guys must have really sweet talked him." He turned to JJ and Emily.

"Not really." Emily noted something on a piece of paper beside her. "We simply pointed out to him that he was partially responsible for the situation by not notifying Gideon about Sienna's plans for vengeance."

Morgan slammed the papers he held down on the table. "What is this girl's _**problem**_? Her father murders her mom and eight other people, and she blames Gideon for his death? She has got some _serious_ issues."

"Hence the extended therapy." JJ shook her head. "Poor kid. Did you read this?"

Hotch shook his head. "What does it say?" 

"Sienna had been abused and molested in her foster family. She only stayed with her foster parents for a year before turning 18 and leaving for college. She has a long history of self-injury and suicide attempts, and she has been hospitalized five times, every time in the psych ward."

"Says here, she still saw Dr. Hall while she was at the hospital. I don't know many shrinks that do house calls." Morgan frowned.

"A broken girl is very easy to manipulate. Maybe the doctor had some ulterior motives with his visits?" Emily ran her fingers through her hair, feeling nausea rising inside of her at the thought of frog-man.

"Let's not go there." Hotch took a few steps over the floor, looking out the window. "What more does it say?"

"Let's see..." Morgan changed papers. "Her grades were way above average when she attended school at University of Colorado-Denver, and she graduated with honors. Psych major, holds a PhD. Big surprise."

"Fantastic, an UnSub with an education in mindf---ing." JJ crumbled a page, tossing it in the waste basket.

"JJ, language", Hotch said sternly.

"Sorry."

"So she's a really smart psycho who has it in for Gideon." Morgan wiggled his chair. "How do we figure out where she's holding Reid?"

"Maybe there are some clues in the riddles we keep getting?" Emily tried.

"No." A familiar voice came from the doorway and they all turned. Gideon had arrived to Saginaw, unbeknownst to the rest of the team. "The riddles are only a waste of time."

"Gideon!" Hotch was surprised to see his senior colleague, but at the same time very relieved. If someone could solve this puzzle, it was him.

The older agent stepped into the room, walking up to a whiteboard. "They are only meant to confuse us; throw us off track. They aren't the main objective in the chase. Right now we have to focus on possible locations."

"That's pretty much what we've been doing up to now, Gideon." Emily felt slightly offended by the older agent's comment. _I hope he didn't imply that we're not working hard enough on this_, she thought.

"I know."

"Gideon, tell us about the case with Sienna's father." Hotch wanted to know as much as possible about what was moving in this UnSub's mind.

"It was in Denver. Eight women had been murdered in 21 days, all with the same MO; strangled, raped and left in garbage bags in alleys. The UnSub also cut off the women's lips. We followed the profile to Christopher Nolan, and it was pure luck we arrived when we did. He had just murdered his wife in their house and was about to assault Sienna. We took him down before he could do anything to her, and the police took him away."

Gideon had to pause to breathe. "I had Sienna in my arms for several hours after the incident. She was completely catatonic when we finally got to the hospital. Two days went by before she was fully awake and aware. I got a phone call from her about a week later; she thanked me for saving her life. I framed her picture for my office. I had absolutely no idea this would happen."

The older agent shook his head slowly. He had a hard time comprehending the fact that a girl he once saved was now torturing his protégé to get revenge on him.

"Look, Gideon – the girl has had a major episode and probably slipped into a schizophrenic psychosis." Emily leaned over the table, looking her older colleague in the eyes. "There was no way you could have known this was going to happen."

"This is no time for the blame game anyway", JJ injected. "We have to concentrate on finding Reid. Can we check if there are any alternate locations where the girls could have gone?"

"Check it out. Bring Morgan." Hotch nodded.

JJ and Morgan left the conference room, sights set on Cate's house. They needed to talk to Cate's mother again. And they needed to get a warrant for Cate's laptop, something that had amazingly enough slipped everyone's mind the day before.

The rest of the team sat in the conference room, still going through files and listening to tapes of Sienna's and Dr. Hall's sessions.

"_Sienna, tell me what you're thinking."_

"_I'm thinking he should be dead instead of dad."_

"_Now, I know you don't mean that, Sienna."_

"_No offence, doc – but you don't know shit about what I mean and don't mean."_

"_We've been talking for nearly five years, Sienna – I would hope I know you quite well by now."_

_  
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, doc."_

"_Let's talk about what you told me last time about your dream – about the cell."_

_--deep female sigh—_

"_Fine. It's the same dream every time. I'm locked in a cell and there's no one there. It's empty, just a few bottles of water and a broken toilet. Water is coming down from the ceiling and it's freezing. I have no clothes. I hurt everywhere. Is this really necessary? We did this last week."_

"_It's an important part of your therapy, Sienna. Go on."_

"_Someone is watching everything I do, and no one is helping me. There's a hole in the ceiling. I look up and I see him. He's looking down at me, laughing. I hate him. I could kill him."_

"_Calm down now, Sienna. Who is standing in the opening?"_

"_Him. Agent Gideon."_

"_The man who saved your life?"_

"_He didn't save __**shit**__! He ruined my life, he killed my father! All this is his fault! He's gonna pay, I swear to God..."_

"_Sienna, agent Gideon was the one who saved your life after you were threatened by your father and..."_

"_Shut up! He saved __**nothing**__! He's destroyed everything I've ever had! My father had done __**nothing**__ wrong, and that man killed him!"_

"_For God's sake, Sienna; your father killed nine people, including your mother, and was institutionalized for years. He committed suicide, agent Gideon had nothing to do with that."_

"_Liars... You are all __**liars!**__ You'll see."_

"_We'll see what?"_

"_I'm suffering for something __**that man**__ thinks my father has done. That isn't fair..."_

"_Sienna, I think we should start discussing your medication. Your doctor tells me you haven't been getting your scrips in the last month."_

"_Do you know your Bible, Dr. Hall?"_

"_What?"_

"_But if they will confess their sins and the sins of their fathers - their treachery against me and their hostility toward me. Levicticus __26:40__"_

"_What are you saying, Sienna?"_

"_I'm saying... That I'm not the only child who should suffer for the 'sins' of the father."_

_--rapid steps—_

"_Sienna, come back here, the session isn't over! Sienna!"_

_--Click—_

Gideon shut the tape recorder off, sighing deeply. "If I had only known."

"No one could have. She's in a deep psychosis and not taking her meds. She's not in the real world anymore." Hotch sat down beside his older colleague. "That was their final session, right?"

Gideon nodded. Sinking into his thoughts, he leaned back in the chair.

--

"Mrs. Carell, we are sorry, but we need to take your daughter's computer." Morgan tried to reason with the adamant woman blocking the entrance to her home.

"You can't come into my house and take things! My daughter hasn't done anything!"

JJ finally lost her patience with the rigid mother standing in their way. "Mrs. Carell, your daughter has been proven to collaborate with a confirmed kidnapper! One of our agents is missing and the best and only way to get the least bit closer to finding him is by seeing yor daughter's chat logs. We know for a fact that the two have been talking for over a year and went AWOL at the same time as our colleague was kidnapped! Mrs. Carell, if you do not move this instant, I will have you arrested for obstruction of justice!"

The woman looked shocked, and moved out of the way as JJ pushed past her into Cate's room, nearly ripping the computer wires out of their sockets.

Morgan followed her in, looking around. His eyes fell on a picture frame on the night stand. Picking it up, he showed it to Mrs. Carell. "Who is this next to your daughter?"

Scowling, the woman answered. "That's Cate's boyfriend, George Fletcher."

Turning to JJ, Morgan showed her the frame. "There's a boyfriend."

"I'll call Hotch."

--

Reid was startled by the sudden light in the cell. Like a bolt of lightning had just cut through his head, he threw his hands up over his eyes, trying to block out the sharp light. The cell had been blackened since the 'visit' of the assumed UnSubs, and that was a long time ago. He had no way of determining how long he had been left in the dark, but he knew it was more than a few hours.

Before his eyes had the time to adjust to the sudden flash of brightness, the sound of the hatch opening was heard in the formerly silent cell. Blinking, the young agent tried to see if someone was making their way down, but the only thing making its way down into the cell was the all-too-familiar basket. 

Reid was in no mood to read any more demeaning notes or doing any more of the UnSubs' bidding. He refused to get up, and stayed propped up against the wall, staring at the basket.

It was left on the floor as the line returned up the opening, as the hatch closed with a slam. Glaring icily up at the camera, Reid reluctantly got up, wrapping the blanket around him. It wasn't much, but at least it shielded him from prying eyes. 

Peering into the basket, his entire being screamed for it to be food – he hadn't eaten in at least a day; or at least it felt that way. But the basket was empty except for the usual note. 

Reid groaned._What do they want __**now**_? he thought. _A pint of blood? A kidney? Maybe just to make me feel even more pathetic and worthless than I do already—which is going to be difficult, considering I never want anyone to look at me like this; not for a second, not ever._

He gingerly picked it up and read it.

_Dr. Reid. By now you should have realized that __I do not accept insubordination on your part. If you do, the punishment is dire—as, I'm sure, you've already noticed._

_You will be given one more chance to behave. If you do not do so –my patience is up. _

_You will be fed now. You __also have the opportunity to clean yourself up with a few items, provided that you give up something in return._

Reid closed his eyes. _They couldn't possibly want me to give up my...?_

He continued reading.

_To recieve the items you will have to __give up your socks. You have until the hatch opens to make your desicion._

The young doctor was more than confused. _My socks? Why would they want my socks? _Though it was a reasonable question, Reid immediate thoughts were focused something more important.

_Food. I'm getting food! _he thought. His stomach rumbled, and at this point his socks seemed to be a reasonable price for the chance to try and clean himself up.

Removing his socks, the young agent waited anxiously for the basket to return. A few minutes later as Reid stood under the hatch holding his mismatched socks, it opened and the basket was lowered. He placed his socks in it and it rapidly disappeared into the darkness above.

A moment later, the basket returned. Reid could smell the food inside even before it had reached his head, and he grabbed the wicker container, relieving it of its contents. 

The food was not nearly worthy of the name, but to Reid it was a little piece of heaven. There was a small container of some sort of soup, three slices of dry bread and a carrot.

The additional items he had recieved in return for his socks were a mid-sized dishpan, a bar of soap, a battery operated razor and a pillbox containing six ibuprofen tablets. He placed these items on the ground next to the basket and threw himself over the food. He didn't notice the note on the bottom of the basket until the line jerked it, in an attempt to gain his attention.

Reid took the note and with a mouth full of soup-drenched bread, he began reading it silently to himself as the basket once more disappeared up the hatch.

_You are being a good boy now, Dr. Reid. If you continue to be obediant, there might be a nice reward in it for you. Now eat, and then clean up – we might be taking a trip soon, and you__'ll need to look your best possible._

Reid stopped chewing. _A trip? I'm getting out?_ A sudden ray of hope hit him. He knew somewhere deep inside that it was probably a trick to make him less disobedient, but it was hope – and at that moment, hope was all he had.

He finished his food, enjoying every bit of it – despite the half-gallon of salt that had been added. Carefully pouring himself a small glass of water from the bottle, he realized he was down to one and a half container. It made him worry. _What if they leave me here? I won't have enough water to survive for very long._ The young doctor placed the pan in front of the half empty bottle of water and poured some into it. He had to save as much as possible.

After washing his broken face, he carefully ran the humming razor up and down his stubby cheeks. It felt amazing to be relatively clean again, and he continued to wash the rest of his body. If there was even the slightest chance he was getting to leave this hellhole, he was going to do everything he could to enhance that possibility.

--

Hotch and Gideon walked up to the young man working on a motorcycle in the driveway of a large house. "George Fletcher?" Hotch held up his credentials as the man turned around and nodded. "I'm agent Hotchner, this is agent Gideon; we're with the FBI."

"The FBI?" The young man looked very confused, and expression the two agents were very used to as they introduced themselves. "What's going on?"

"We'd like to talk to you about Cate Carell."

"Cate?" Greg frowned. "Did something happen to her?"

"No. When was the last time you saw her?"

"Last Thursday. We went out to the movies. What's happened to Cate?"

"Nothing has happened to Cate." Gideon stepped forward, holding the picture of the three women for Greg to see. "Do you know these women?"

Greg looked at the picture, dumbfounded. "Yeah, that's Cate and her friends Angelica and Tracy."

"Have you met these other women recently?"

"Cate has, yeah, but me? No."

"They were going on a trip, right?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah, to New York. Please, tell me what this is all about." The man began to breath faster and look very concerned.

"Cate is involved in a kidnapping of a federal agent."

The young man looked like he had just been hit by a ton of bricks. Staggering slightly, he held his Yamaha not to fall over. "Cate? My Cate? No way."

"Have you noticed anything strange about Cate lately, any changes in her behavior or mood swings?"

"No... Nothing. She's just... she... I love her, she's my girl." George looked ready to cry at any moment. "What if... she... she won't get hurt, right..?"

"I'm sure she won't. Thank you, Greg, for co-operating." Gideon tried to shake the young man's limp hand, and the two agents left the driveway, leaving George behind, still leaning on his bike.

"Well, that was useless." Hotch sighed.

Gideon said nothing. His talking was all in his head; and he was screaming at himself for letting this happen to Reid. The two agents got back in their government issued SUV and drove back to the station.

As soon as the black SUV had turned the corner, George pulled up his cell phone. Dialing, he kept a look out for the vehicle, should it return. "Yeah, it's me. The feds were just here. Yeah. Okay, I'll fix that. It's still Sunday, right? Great. Bye."

Hanging up, he knelt down beside his bike, and continued tinkering with the engine.

--

"Emily, I have something here!" JJ sat by the computer, trying to find her way into the intricate chat logs.

"What is it, JJ?" Emily ran up beside her, looking at the screen.

"It's conversations between three people from about a year ago up to last Thursday. But it's all garbled!"

"Garbled?"

"It's in some private code, nothing makes sense. This is from 2 weeks ago. 'Little Boy Blue goes Casablanca, 6 1, 127.'

"There are the numbers again." Emily jabbed at the screen, recognizing the digits from the note on Cate's desk.

"I can't dechipher this. If I can get Garcia to link up to this computer, maybe she can get something out of it." JJ pulled up her phone, but before she could dial, the familiar chirp of Emily's Nokia cut through the air.

"It's Garcia... Hi, Garcia, you're on speaker phone."

"_I got a new riddle."_

"What is it?"

"_It's a child's riddle. It's really easy, even I could figure this one out. But I think Gideon needs to see it as well, just in case there's any hidden meaning in it. There usually is."_

"Gideon's not here right now, he'll be back soon."

"_I'll send the link over to you, it's another YouTube-video."_

"Great. Oh, and Garcia!" Emily hurried before the swift-fingered blonde on the other end of the line could hang up.

"_Yeah?"_

"We have a lap top here that we would need to have checked out. Can you connect to it from a distance?"

"_Not a problem. Give me the IP and I'll have it open in ten minutes."_

"Wonderful. JJ, what's the IP?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" JJ looked at her older colleague, disbelief in her eyes.

Emily gave a slight smile, the first one she had been able to push out for a week, and helped her co-worker get the IP so Garcia could break into the lap top.

--

Reid sat on the floor of the cell. He was clean, and it felt amazing. The thin blanket around his shoulders did nothing to keep him warm, but at least it obstructed the staring eyes of his captors behind the camera. The young doctor was determined to behave, not only to avoid punishment, but also to improve his chances of maybe getting out of the cell. He sat silently by the wall, not moving a muscle.

He didn't twitch when the lights went out. He didn't make a sound as the darkness once again reigned over the cell. The young doctor merely closed his eyes and let the silent tears hit the floor beneath him.

He was going to behave, no matter the cost.

**A/N again: Do you want to help the BAU solve the riddle? Go to my profile and click the link saying Riddle Number 5, and see if you're as smart as the BAU!**


	14. A Startling Realization

**A/N: A shortie, but a goodie. ´Beta read, bunny-enhanced and partially written by the Gublerific editor frog!**

Reid sat motionless in his dark prison. He was terrified - not just of the dark; he was getting used to that - but of losing even the slim hope that he might see actual daylight and breathe in fresh air.

The cell was warm again; not boiling, but enough for him to consider taking off his blanket. He really didn't like the idea of doing so, though - it left him exposed; much too exposed for his liking.

_Why would the unsub want to make me take off my clothes one at a time? _he thought. _Why not just make me do it all at once?_

Even before he could finish his thought, he already had the answer. _It's about control. The unsub has it; I don't. Making me strip one article of clothing at a time only reinforces this concept - I end up trading a bit of myself for even the most basic needs._

Reid was taking shallow breaths; the clogged toilet was now beginning to overpower his sense of smell. He tried to put the pungent odor out of his mind, but it still lingered like an unwelcome stray cat.

_What's worse is that there's nothing I can do to fix it,_ he thought. _Someone put me in this position on purpose; made me little more than a tool to exact revenge on another person._

At this thought Reid briefly thought of Gideon. _I hope he's figured out who might want to do something like this. I don't know how much more I can take …_

He continued his motionless vigil, hoping with every last fiber in his being that doing so would allow him a chance to escape this horrible dungeon.

----

Gideon and Hotch returned to the Saginaw police station after recieving a call from JJ, saying there was another clue to solve. Walking into the conference room, they were greeted by JJ and Emily who sat at the computer, staring at the laptop. They were playing the YouTube-video over and over again, trying to solve the riddle.

"Garcia said it was easy, but I just don't see it." JJ leaned on her elbows. "A child's riddle, my butt."

Gideon leaned over Emily to get a closer look at the riddle. When it finished, he straightened up again and released a sigh.

"Well?" Emily turned to her older colleague. "Did you get it?"

"Nothing."

"See, he doesn't get it either." JJ shook her head. "We're never gonna get this one."

"It's nothing. The answer is 'Nothing'." Giden sat down beside Emily. "Nothing preceded God, nothing is greater than God, nothing is more evil than the devil, all poor people have nothing, wealthy people need nothing and if you eat nothing – you will die."

The women looked at Gideon. Emily shook her head. "I hate riddles."

"Do we have a hook-up to the live feed website?" Hotch had gone to stand behind JJ by the computer.

"Yeah, I'll pull it up." JJ clicked a few keys and the black screen containing only a timer and a textbox returned. The timer was down to nine minuts.

Typing in the answer 'nothing' into the textbox and pressing ENTER, JJ and the entire team waited anxiously to see how accurate their guess had been. Not ten seconds later, a message showed up on the screen.

_Correct._

A sigh of relief escaped Hotch's lips as he nearly knocked Morgan over, leaning to get a closer look at what he hoped would be Reid in the cell.

And sure enough, moments later, the live feed webcam image showed up on the screen. The night vision was still on, and the room had turned an eerie shade of green. The team could see Reid sitting on the floor of the cell, absolutely motionless, staring straight into the camera. The laceration on his cheek made JJ wince and let out a small whimper in despair. She couldn't believe she was seeing this. _Spence... Oh, Christ..._

The young man in front of the camera didn't move a muscle. His eyes had an empty look to them and they seemed to have lost all hope. It pained Gideon to see his friend this way; especially since this was all because of him. He squeezed the armrest of the chair until his knuckles were white, clenching his teeth until his jaw hurt.

They watched the screen in utter silence until it went black once again. The total time elapsed was no more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity to the people watching. Pained and distraught, they said nothing as the feed ended, but returned to their seats around the oak table. Hotch closed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Gideon simply rested his head on his hand, leaning on the armrest.

Morgan left the room. The others could hear him yelling barely restrained profanities as he slammed his fists against lockers and other things in his way as he made his way out the front door.

JJ wiped a tear from her cheek, turning away from the others. Biting down on her lip, she tried to keep herself from crying any harder. Emily noticed her younger colleague struggling, and in a motherly fashion placed her arm around her, stroking her back. 

Pain ravaged Emily's inside as well, but she refused to let her own feelings intervene with her work. She would be damned if any outbreak of emotions caused her youngest colleague any more suffering.

"All right." Hotch opened his eyes and leaned forwards in his chair. "We have to keep our minds clear. I know it's hard, knowing that Reid is being held captive by these UnSubs, but we have to."

"Hotch's right", Emily chimed in. "We have to stay focused. We have to find out where Sienna is holding Reid."

JJ wiped away her last tear and cleared her throat before turning towards her colleagues. "Garcia is working Cate's computer and the chat logs. If there's anything there, we'll know soon enough."

Gideon rose and slowly walked to the window. As he watched the cars going by on the street below, his stomach twisted into a painful knot as he remembered a crucial piece of information that he had previously repressed. "I told her."

Hotch turned to his older co-worker. "You told who what?"

"Sienna. I told her about Reid."

"Why would you do that?" Emily furrowed her brow as she tried to understand what Gideon was saying.

"She wrote me a letter about two years ago telling me how she was doing well in therapy and in school. She said she had been visiting her father at the institution and had a hard time dealing with not having a male role model in her life. I wrote her a letter back trying to reassure her, and I told her about Reid. I told her how he also lacked a father during most of his childhood but how he was doing much better since we met. I assured her that one day she would find someone to lean on and hold just as close as I hold Reid. My God..."

Gideon suddenly realized that not only was he responsible for Reid's abduction, but he had also been the one who gave the UnSub the information on who to kidnap to hurt him the most. He had unwittingly placed his protégé in grave danger because of his own actions. The older agent closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the glass before him.

This really _**was**_ his fault.


	15. Temper Tantrum

**A/N: I think I'm gonna have to put a warning on this one.. It's pretty bad whumping ahead. But I know you like it...! Beta read, bunny-enhanced and partially written by the Gublerific editor frog!**

Thursday

After what had to be hours, Reid finally uncurled his bare legs out from underneath him. They had fallen asleep from remaining pressed against the solid floor for so long.

_When are they going to come and get me? _he thought. _Haven't I been "good" for long enough?_

Then a realization passed over the young agent. _They aren't coming for me. They never were. It was all just a way to make me "behave" and stop lashing out._

Reid was furious. Sick, sad, ashamed, and completely furious. His mind refused to co-operate with the thought of being someone's personal lap dog, and so did his body.

In spite of the lingering darkness, the young agent mustered up the courage to rebel against his fear, and hoisted himself quickly off of the floor, storming over towards the camera lens and its glowing red indicator.

"Why are you _**doing**_ this to me!" he shouted, his voice radiating his anger. "Haven't you had enough! Or maybe you won't be happy until you've _killed_ me!"

He stomped closer to his one portal outside this dark, putrid hellhole. "Well, I'm _**through**_! I'm done playing your psychotic game! I'm not gonna lie down and die just because it might make you happy and serve your sick, perverted purpose! I don't care anymore!"

Before he could stop himself, he saw his long fingers start grasping for the camera lens. He scratched and clawed at the object buried deep into the wall, hoping to pry it loose. 

"If I'm gonna die in here, I'm gonna do it on my terms!" Reid screamed. "Not with _you_ or _anyone else_ watching and enjoying every bit of pain and humiliation I go through!"

He clawed at the camera until his fingers bled. It remained fast; still recording, still transmitting his sick, personal hell for all - or a few - to see.

Frustrated, Reid picked up the first weighted object that his hands could find in the dark - it was the dishpan, which was made of stainless steel. Taking it up into his hand, he chucked the metal object towards the camera, hoping to shatter the lens. 

It didn't faze the glass. It simply bounced off the wall, clattering to a rest at Reid's feet.

Heaving a savage cry, Reid searched for another object—the electric razor. He threw it as hard as he could at the camera, only to hear a small _chink_ when the plastic struck the glass.

Focusing his eyes, the young agent thrust out a hand and tried to see if he'd managed to break the glass lens. His fingers ran over mostly smooth, intact glass—there was only one tiny imperfection near the rim of the camera lens, where the razor must have connected with it.

Completely enraged, Reid began throwing everything in the room he could get his hands on---everything, that is, except his drinking glass. When none of them managed to hurt the thick glass eyelet, Reid sank to the concrete floor in despair. He began sobbing harder than ever.

_I'm going to die here. One way or another, I'm going to die in this miserable hellhole. Even if anyone manages to find me, it'll be too late. _

Reid's heart broke. He had been tortured, starved, humiliated, and broken - and all for a reason he would have no way of knowing. Tears burning in the wound under his eye, he cried out loud, tugging at the little hair he had left on his head. 

The young doctor hurt everywhere. The bodily aches he could handle, but his psychological agony was much harder to deal with. The feeling of having lost every shred of human worth, the young doctor lay down on the floor, curling up into fetal position.

He lay on the warm concrete, crying until exhaustion took him.

----

The night had been hard on the entire remaining part of the BAU. Having spent the night at a nearby hotel, they all began losing hope of ever finding Reid. All tracks they had been on had ended abruptly or lead straight into nowhere.

None of them had slept more than an hour or so as they returned to the station, eyes bloodshot and limbs somewhat more limp than usual. Garcia had been up nearly all night trying to decipher the personal code used in Cate's and Sienna's conversations on the computer, but had not been successful. As Morgan walked into the conference room, he had her on speakerphone.

"Spill it, Garcia."

"_Well, I haven't been able to get a lot out of these logs, except a few things that actually made sense."_

"Go ahead."

"_Well, they're discussing someone named 'Baby Boy Blue' a lot, so I'm assuming that's Reid. There are a lot of references to movies and books, and since I am a complete nerd when it comes to those things, I could figure out most of them."_

"_They began planning this a little less than a year ago, according to the logs. Before that, no messages were coded, it was all plain talk. Sienna, or AscendingAnger as she called herself in the chats, told Cate, alias emerson ford, all about what had happened in her youth. A year ago the tone changed and Sienna became more irate, agitated and irrational. Strangely enough, Cate responded in kind."_

"Sympathy anger. It's common in close relationships." Emily listened to Garcia's description of the women's discussions.

"How can a relationship be close when it's based on the internet?" JJ asked.

"_Believe me, JJ, some of my best relationships have been internet ones. Anyway, about three weeks after Sienna's change, the messages changed too. I can figure out what they're saying, but I have no idea where they are. They never mention a location, not in code or in plain writing."_

"What about the third woman?" Gideon took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee.

"_Tracy? She joined the chats nine months ago. She has only written in code, nothing in plain text. Her nickname, tasselglow, doesn't show up in quite as many places in the conversations, but she's definitely involved in this, no doubt about it."_

"At least we know exactly who we are looking for." Hotch rubbed his sore eyes in a try to regain some additional focus.

"Which is nothing more than we knew three days ago." Emily haplessly leaned back into her chair, burying her tired face in her hands.

"_I'm sorry I can't be more help, guys. I wish there was something I could... Oh, no."_

"'Oh, no', what?" Morgan frowned as he heard the concerned voice on the other side of the line.

"_There's another riddle."_

"We'll take it, Garcia. You keep working with the logs, see if you can dig anything out of the code." Hotch rose and went to sit beside Emily at the lap top.

"_Okay. Call me if you need anything."_ Click.

Morgan took his phone from the table and put it back into his pocket. "Alright, what does Ms. Psycho have for us today?"

"It's another YouTube-video. I'll bring it up." Emily tapped a few keys and clicked the link leading to the riddle. 

After watching the riddle play, the team immediately sprung into action, knowing that this would be the most important clue to solve since the beginning of the frantic search for Reid.

----

A sharp kick to the ribs woke Reid from his exhaustion-induced sleep.

"Ow!" he cried out, curling into a ball to avoid his unseen attackers. "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone!"

Another sharp kick, this time to Reid's legs. The young man tried to tuck his limbs underneath himself, but to no avail. Two strong pairs of hands grabbed his arms and violently threw him up against the wall.

"No!" Reid screamed. "Do whatever you want - I'm not going to cooperate anymore!"

The reaction from his assailants was instantaneous. One pair of hands let him go, while the other hardened their grip. The blinding pain that shot through his mid-section made Reid cry out in agony as he doubled over, trying to protect himself from the steel fist that would most definitely return to further pound his kidney.

Feeling himself once more being slammed up against the wall, the wind was knocked out of him and he gasped for breath. Another punch to his side made him whimper, not having enough air in his lungs to scream.

The fist connecting with his jaw sent him flying over the floor, as the grip around him was released. Tumbling over the warm concrete, he lost all sense of direction and his balance was thrown off completely. Reid tried to crawl away from the attackers, but ended up banging his head straight into the massive wall.

The hands reappeared around his arms, lifting him square off the ground. The brutal impact with the concrete wall made him cry out in pain once more, as the hands left him standing alone.

The strike in his stomach, most likely a kick, was more powerful than the other ones, and the young doctor could feel something crack in the lower part of his ribcage as he fell to his knees, holding his stomach and his chest. He coughed and struggled to gain his breath. His body wouldn't stand for any more of this abuse. The hands returned and lifted him up against the wall, and simply held him still.

Finally, Reid gave in. He stood there limply, being supported only by the strong hands that held him to the wall.

"Why don't you just kill me?" Reid asked in a hoarse voice. "Just…just kill me and be done with it. You're never going to let me out of here; why not just end it and be done?"

As before, there was no answer. A hand reached for Reid's, and placed a familiar object in it. It was the pair of scissors.

"What?" he questioned softly. "What do I need this for? I don't have anything left!"

Another hand traced down Reid's side, slid itself just underneath the waistband of his boxers, and tugged gently.

_No. No. Oh, God, no…_

"I won't do it," Reid said defiantly. "I will not give that up. _Not ever._"

The young man's head spun as he reeled from a vicious backhand to the face. Again, the hand that had run down his side tugged at the waistband of the boxers, but with more force.

The next sound Reid heard was that of a gun cocking, and a pair of scissors opening and closing. The implication was crystal clear - _take them off or we'll __**cut**__ them off. __**NOW.**_

Stubbornly, Reid refused. He let his hands hang limp from his sides, and he slowly shook his head, screwing up his battered face for the anticipated blow.

Instead, it was the young agent's ears that were assaulted; the next sounds Reid heard were that of the scissors cutting through fabric. He could feel the cold metal shears trailing down his sides as the last remnant of modesty he had was destroyed by sharp blades.

When both sides were cut through, the fabric fell unceremoniously to the floor. Completely ashamed and totally exposed, Reid felt as though he wanted to die. He tried miserably to cover himself with his hands.

A hand reached behind him and shoved him to the floor; the young man's knees connected with the concrete so sharply that he winced from the pain.

A foot tapped at Reid's arms; blindly, he began searching for the pieces of cloth that had fallen from his waist.

As soon as he took hold of them, he clung to them tightly. Though they were no longer serviceable, he just couldn't let these monsters take his last shred of dignity without a fight.

Something cold tapped Reid's back; it was the pair of scissors. A foot kicked up at the wisps of fabric dangling from Reid's hand. The young agent understood what he was expected to do - continue shredding the cloth until there was nothing left.

Curling into a ball, Reid refused. He tried to push his captors away from him and kept a firm grasp on what remained of his boxer shorts.

The cell fell silent. The young doctor thought for a moment that the assailants may have left him alone after all. His desperate wish for solitude was shattered as he heard a soft clinking sound cutting through the silence.

The sound was so familiar, but the young agent couldn't place it. His mind racing, he clung to the piece of fabric that was once his boxers. 

Suddenly, there was a brief whooshing sound, like something falling rapidly through the air. Reid registered the sound, but had no time to contemplate it before a burning pain shot through his left buttock.

Reid screamed in agony, as he tried to cover himself with his arms. But there was no use in attempting to shield himself; the strikes hailed over him, not missing a single beat. His arms, legs, back and behind were massacred by the savage beating.

Every time the object of use hit his skin it made a loud swatting sound, and suddenly Reid realized what was happening. The clinking sound he had heard before had been a belt being unbuckled. 

He was being flogged.

Screaming in anguish, he desperately tried to hide from the ruthless pounding. Whenever he moved, the belt would move to another place and continue its ferocious battery there.

The young doctor screamed and cried from the pain, and from the humiliation of lying naked on the floor, virtually being spanked for being 'naughty'.

"Oh, God! Please stop! Please!"

Just as sudden as the beating had begun, it ended. Reid felt the piece of fabric he had been clutching being ripped from his hands. As he lay crying on the floor, he heard the footsteps moving around the room, and small rustling sounds around him.

After a minute or so, the room fell silent again. Reid prayed that he wouldn't have to endure any more battery. He couldn't take it. The next thing he heard was the heavy hatch slam shut and being locked tight.

The young man broke out crying even harder. Salty tears of utter humiliation ran down his face and burned his eyes. Gingerly running his hands over his skin as he lay on the floor, he felt welts rising all over his body. They were about an inch wide and of different lengths. 

His buttocks and back seemed to have been affected the worst. As he felt the tender skin on his behind he felt a thick, warm fluid lingering on it. He was bleeding.

There was no way the young man could sit up in this condition, so he remained on his stomach on the floor. At least, in this position, no one would see him at his most vulnerable. Pulling his knees up to his chest, his backside burned like fire, and he whimpered through his tears.

_Oh, God...please... Please, let me die._

**A/N again: Do you want to help the BAU solve the riddle? Visit my profile and click the link named Riddle Number 6 to give it a try! Who knows - YOU might be the one to save Reid!**


	16. Someone's Listening

**A/N: Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog, my partner in torture! Thankyou everyone for the lovely reviews, you guys make this story worth writing! Oh, and I had no idea there were that many Michiganders out there ) **

"Michigan."

Hotch snapped his head up as Morgan uttered the one single word to break the silence in the conference room. "What?"

"'_Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam, circumspice'_, it's the state motto of Michigan." He tapped the computer screen. "Google is a wonderful thing when Garcia is out for food."

Hotch nodded. "It doesn't help us much, though; we already know he's in Michigan."

"Yeah." Gideon rubbed his temples. "The second part is the clue to the place he's in. _That's_ the one we have to figure out."

"No shit, Sherlock? Really?" Morgan was getting fed up with Gideon's 'stating-the-obvious' behavior. "Look, Gideon, the last thing we need right now is someone who tells me the sky is blue. If you have something fresh to say, then say it. If not, then shut up!" Morgan turned back to the computer, desperately searching for 'the emperor and his empress'.

"Morgan!" Hotch scolded at his subordinate. "This is neither the time nor the place."

"Then when _is _it,Hotch? Don't tell me you're not getting sick of him constantly stating the obvious?

"Take a walk, Morgan." Hotch looked sternly at his colleague, knowing he'd need to calm down to do his job.

"Hotch!" Morgan raised his eyebrows in surprise and shock over his superior's response. "Like hell I'm gonna take a walk!"

"Walk it off, Morgan. Come back when you've cooled off."

Resisting the urge to take a swing at both his superior and his older colleague across the table, Morgan rose, knocking over his chair in the process. With an icy stare at his both colleagues, he grabbed his jacket and left the room.

Hotch sighed and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. "We don't need this right now."

Gideon had remained silent during the entire conversation between his younger co-workers, simply staring out the window. He tried to figure out what he possibly could have done to deserve to have this very disturbed woman's rage thrust upon him; on him and on Reid.

Every single book and poem Gideon had ever read flew through his mind, but the pieces of the puzzle just wouldn't fit together. It frustrated him to the brink of screaming.

JJ and Emily had been sent back to the Carell house for one last conversation with Cate's mother. No one expected her to cooperate this time either, but it was all they had. 

Hotch and Gideon sat silently in the conference room, wondering what in the world they were going to do. Reid had been kidnapped and was being tortured; and there was nothing they could do about it. The profile was made, the UnSubs were identified and known to be somewhere in Michigan. Which left them with nearly 100,000 square miles of possible hiding places. The search seemed hopeless. 

And the clues didn't help a bit. Just as Gideon had said, they were only meant to throw them off track; to confuse them. If it hadn't meant causing Reid more pain than he already was in, Hotch wouldn't have given the childish riddles the time of day. Unfortunately, the situation called for it, and they just had to deal with it, no matter how hard it was.

It felt like and impossible chase.

The timer ticked down towards zero rapidly, only 16 minutes left. And all they had was the obvious: Michigan.

--

The darkness in the cell still lingered as Reid woke up from his exhaustion induced sleep. He had been slipping in and out of a mix between sleep and unconsciousness for what he could only assume was hours. His entire body hurt from the abuse he had been forced to endure.

Every move he made sent bolts of pain into every inch of his skin. Nevertheless, he dragged himself up onto his knees, whimpering every inch of the way. The young doctor felt an urgent need to use the already well filled toilet. He forced himself to stand up, despite the searing pain shooting through his body.

As he made it to his feet, the need to relieve himself was replaced by a churning in his stomach. He stumbled blindly over to where he hoped the toilet was. Searching the wall with his hands, he finally found the porcelain bowl and threw himself on it, spewing out every piece of stomach contents that remained inside of him.

Dry heaving, he leaned heavily on the bowl, trying to regain his balance and some form of control over his functions. He slumped down on the floor, his back against the wall. Breathing heavily, the young doctor felt his rear end pulsating as he sat as lightly as humanly possible on it.

Tears once again filled his eyes, this time more from the pain than the humiliation. The young man cringed with every move as he crawled over the entire surface of the floor, searching in vain for his only means of cover; his blanket. 

It was nowhere to be found.

_They took it... __they've taken __**everything**__! There's nothing __**in**__ here!_

Cursing himself for not having the common sense to cooperate, he gave a loud cry in despair, banging his clenched fists against the concrete floor.

The cell was getting colder. Not freezing, but cold enough to send shivers down his spine and make him shudder lightly. He hoped to God that he wouldn't have to endure another night, or day, of icy cold. There was no way he could stand that--not that, and still keep the little sanity he had left.

Reid curled up on the floor, closing his eyes. His chest felt like it had been struck by a truck, and he wrapped his arms around his torso. The dehydration was getting to him. The young agent began feeling light headed and weak. A headache was beginning to form just around his temples. But he couldn't drink anything in the dark, in fear of breaking the glass. 

_Keep it safe, keep it safe_, he thought. He decided to wait for a possible brightening of his cell.

Tears ran down his cheeks, burning his wounds. The young man's mouth still tasted of blood as he let his tongue glide over his teeth, including the gap where there used to be a molar.

_Why? Oh, God, why? Why can't you just leave me alone so I can die in peace?_

--

"There's only two minutes left. What do we do?" Hotch had small beads of sweat running down his brow as he watched the timer ticking down.

Gideon stared at the screen. "We don't have a choice. We'll have to type in what we have."

Hotch let his head drop. He knew Gideon was right. It was the only thing they could do at this point.

Slowly, Gideon typed in the only answer they had: 'Michigan'. Pressing ENTER, both men leaned over to see the response from the UnSub. They didn't have to wait for long.

_Partial credit._

The message disappeared. A few more moments passed by before the live feed image from the cell appeared in its place. Reid lay on the floor; the room still an eerie shade of green from the night vision tint.

"Dear God." Gideon cringed as he saw his protégé curled up on the hard concrete floor, completely naked. But something was bothering him. Reaching over to the small reel on the side of the laptop, he spun it all the way to the right – and they heard it.

It was the sound of the young agent's woeful crying. Both men froze as they heard the unnerving sounds emerging from the small speaker over the keyboard. The crying was painful and desperate, breaking the older agents' hearts.

"He's been assaulted", Hotch said, his voice cracking after the first syllable.

As the feed ended and the screen went blank once more, the two men sat as if they had been petrified; still staring at the LCD-screen of the laptop. Neither man bothered to hide the tears forcing their way up into their eyes.

Suddenly, a new message appeared on the black screen in a screaming lime green color.

_Too bad, agent Gideon. You could have gotten to him tonight__, had you been completely correct in your answer. As you were not, there will be consequences for Dr. Reid._

The men cringed. They had put Reid in even more danger.

_I will__, however, be generous enough as to wait to distribute the punishment, as he has been very much penalized today for insubordination._

Gideon frowned. He couldn't imagine Reid being insubordinate in any form, especially not faced with the kind of danger he was at the moment. _Although, _the older agent thought,_ to this deranged woman, a sneeze could be considered 'disobedient.'_

_If I feel generous once again tomorrow, perhaps I will give you another clue pointing towards his whereabouts. Until then, gentlemen._

The two men looked at each other as the message dissolved. Both had the same questioning look on their face. Hotch was the first to speak.

"Why did it say 'agent Gideon' at first, and then 'gentlemen'?"

Gideon had the same thought in mind. Clicking the saved link to the last clue, there was another inconsistency to be found. "All the clues and riddles so far have been addressed to me personally; the last one was addressed to the BAU."

"Does she know we're all here?"

"She must. The real question is, how?"

The two men looked around. They were alone in the room, and no one was within earshot. Hotch shuddered at the thought that became obviously clear to him. There had to be someone on the inside, following their every move.

Rising, the two men went to talk to the chief of police, Michael Jefferson. Opening the door to his office without knocking, the stepped into the room. "You have a mole." Hotch stated.

"What!" Jefferson's answer was very expected.

"Someone has been following the entire operation from inside your station."

"That's not possible!"

"Why not?"

"Because not one of my officers has known about why you're here, they just know it's a kidnapping of some kind. Besides, not one of my men has even been into the conference room since you got here, and that's where you people do all your talking!"

A dime dropped in both agents' heads. Without a word, they swiftly left the room, Hotch pulling his phone from his pocket. 

"This is agent Hotchner; we need a bug sweeper at the Saginaw police station. Yes, now."

Gideon had also taken out his phone. "Morgan, get back here. Call Emily and JJ and get them back here too. We have a bug."

--

_It's so quiet. It's nice. I wish it would be this quiet all the time. Oh, God, why am I here? Why can't I just go home?_

_I wish I was home. I wish I had never gone out Friday night. I wish I could have a normal life, without people trying to torture and maim and kill me. I wish I had my tooth left. I wish I didn't hurt in every extremity of my being. I wish I could be a person again._

_Where am I? Am I in hell? In some definition of hell, anyway. Everything hurts.._

_Am I really not worth more than this? Don't I deserve to die in a dignified way? Should I have to die naked, beaten, shamed and humiliated?_

_Maybe I'm not worth more than this. Maybe I'm just a piece of meat to put on display. Maybe I am just a sad, pathetic excuse for a man. _

_Maybe…maybe I __**deserve**__ this._

--

The remaining part of the BAU had gathered in an interrogation room at the Saginaw police station. The room had been swept for bugs and come up clean. The conference room however, had not. There had been two bugs in the room, one under the table and one behind the mandatory whiteboard by the leftmost wall.

"I can't believe they managed to bug the room! When did they do that!" Emily was furious. Not only had the UnSubs managed to keep Reid hidden from them for nearly a week and play a twisted cat-and-mouse game with the BAU, but had also vicariously injected themselves in the investigation. This was the model of deranged and over-intelligent behavior.

"Says here in a file we weren't handed that Cate Carell and Tracy Graham came in her two weeks ago reporting an attempted assault." Morgan read from a few pages in the file. "The girls had been out to a club and were molested by a man while walking home. They were pretty upset and were taken to the conference room to calm down."

"Someone probably left them alone and went to get them coffee." JJ sighed.

Hotch wandered around the room. "They've been listening to every word we've said; been one step ahead all along."

"Now what do we do?" asked Morgan. The question was a justifiable one.

"We continue. We'll set up camp in here instead. I'm not taking any chances with the conference room. The UnSubs were never in the interrogation rooms."

"Did you solve the riddle?" JJ changed the subject, and immediately sent the two older agents into a crestfallen state. The blonde agent saw the instant change in her colleagues' faces. "What? What happened?"

Hotch cleared his throat. "We only got half the riddle right. We got to see him, and...hear him."

"How is he?" Emily knew the instant she spoke what an idiotic question she had asked.

"Not good. They've taken all his clothes. And he's been beaten."

Emily felt tears clogging up her eyes, but swallowed hard and blinked them away. It hurt every fiber of her being, knowing that one of her best friends was in this kind of distress.

"He was crying." Hotch turned away from his colleagues, not wanting them to see the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Stay in the room, Morgan. We need everyone right now." Gideon did not want to see his younger co-worker leave in anger one more time.

Morgan was silent. His jaws tensed up and relaxed time after time and his stare was blank. The anger he felt inside was like nothing he had ever felt before. _These UnSubs better hope I don't find them before the rest of the team does._

Everyone in the BAU was now more determined than ever to find Reid – no matter how hard the search was.


	17. Apologize

**A/N: Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog! And thank you everyone who are reviewing my work!**

**A/N 2: I noticed I forgot to post the link to the clue mentioned in this fic! I'm sorry about that, and there is now a link in my profile for those who are interested in trying! It's marked as Riddle Number 7. Good luck!**

Friday

Reid woke slowly from his dreamless sleep. Disoriented, he looked around in the now dim cell. The darkness been replaced by a soft glow, which the young doctor's eyes quickly adjusted to. Looking around, he discovered that the room was completely empty, except for the drinking glass and the half empty bottle of water. The UnSubs had taken another full bottle away from him.

At least now he could see enough to get up and have a drink. As the young man tried to get up, he caught a glimpse of his battered body; and it made him shudder. He had purple colored welts all over his arms and legs, bruisings covering his upper torso, and the floor around him was stained with blood.

Turning his head to get some form of view of his backside, the young agent instantly felt his stomach churn. Trails of dried blood had run down his buttocks, back and legs; the cracked skin looked like a filled in connect-the-dots-map.

He had to turn away to prevent himself from being violently ill.

Without knowing it, he had become both delerious and irrational, and unfamiliar thought crowded in his head.

_Why did they do this to me? Was I bad? I must have been bad. That's why they spanked me. I did something bad. I was naughty.__ I deserved it._

Dragging himself to a standing position, he slowly limped over to the water bottle by the wall. Carefully taking the glass from its protected spot in the corner, he placed it on the floor in front of the bottle.

The strength he had to muster up to lift the container of water made him whimper. His arms ached from the beating; the skin felt three sizes too small for his body, stretching terribly with every move.

Water splattered all over the place as the young agent's arms trembled when he poured the water into the glass. Eventually he had filled it to the brim, and fell to his knees, greedily gulping down every last drop of wonderful liquid.

Placing the glass back in the corner, he felt his stomach rumble. _When was the last time I got something to eat? _he thought. 

_When was the last time I got to keep it down?_

The young man could feel his body becoming weaker and weaker; he nearly didn't have the strength to stand up. Relieving himself over the filthy porcelain bowl, his stomach roared for nutrition.

The concrete floor had never been harder as the young agent gingerly sat down, leaning on his hip instead of his buttocks.

_Am I going to survive this? Or will they leave me down here to die? It doesn't matter anymore. It __really doesn't matter anymore._

--

Another practically sleepless night had gone by for the BAU. The image of Reid lying naked in the cell, crying, had etched itself on the cornea of both Hotch and Gideon, who were yet to recover from the startling sight.

Returning to the Saginaw police station, the team had taken one of the interrogation rooms in possession after finding out their previous location had been bugged. Setting up camp in the small room, the BAU was anxious to get to work.

Emily was still at work with the previous riddle; despite the fact that they had failed to give the correct answer. But solving the riddle could possibly give them a heads up on the whereabouts of their youngest member.

Morgan was waiting by the computer, hoping that a new clue would appear any minute. He was furious knowing that Reid was out there somewhere and there was absolutely _nothing_ they could do. All their attempts to find their colleague had been fruitless, but Morgan refused to lose hope.

Gideon sat in his chair, thinking. _What drives this woman? One simple thing: revenge. She's a method/reason-abductor, but she is completely off the map. Nothing fits the profile for this kind of abductor, except the fact that she is determined to hurt me through my 'son'; and she is succeeding._

Morgan's phone began chirping in his pocket, and pressing the button for speaker phone he answered. "Talk to me, doll; and tell me you have something."

"_Sorry, sweetness; I have nothing. Another night, another gallon of coffee, and I have nothing. The logs are pure gibberish__ and the searches on Cate Carell and Tracy Graham haven't given me a thing. They're both completely and freakishly normal women, working and studying; not a shred of therapy or records of any kind!"_

"And Sienna?" Gideon asked.

"_Sienna. Well, we know her history so far. I found her registered on a flight to Sweden about nine months ago, but she's never been registered to return. Angelica Monroe came into the US with an American passport and citizenship four months ago."_

"Forged identity, the criminal's best friend." Morgan shook his head.

"_It's all I have. __I'm sorry you guys. I wish I could do more."_

"It's okay, Garcia. We'll find him. I'll call you if we find or need something."

"_I'll be here." _Click.

Morgan stuck his phone back into his now wrinkled khakis. "We've been on so many assignments during the years. Why does _this_ have to be the impossible one?"

"It's not impossible; we just haven't caught our break yet." Emily leaned back, dropping the thick book on the table. "Well, it's not from _Titus Andronicus_."

Hotch sighed, faith dropping more and more every time a possibility was discarded. "How is he going to be punished?"

JJ looked up from her encyclopedia. "What?"

"He was going to be punished today because of our failure with the clue. What's going to happen to him?"

"Let's not think about that." Gideon rose and began pacing the room. "Our focus has to stay on what we know."

Morgan nodded slowly as he sat by the computer. He knew Gideon was right; even though he was about to slug him for playing Sherlock Holmes at a time like this.

Suddenly, the screen changed from black to scarlet red. Morgan sat up straight in the chair, grabbing the table. _This is it._

The others gathered around him, seeing his reaction. A message showed up in the middle of the LCD-screen, in thick black letters.

_Agents;_

_I noticed that you finally found the listening device we placed in the conference room. Good for you. That should give you a small advantage from now on._

_However, today you will get your final clue. There will be no more help in the hunt for your colleague. After this you'll be on your own._

_I admit, it's been fun. Dr. Reid was a nice plaything, but he was very stubborn. I think he needed the punishment he was given last night._

_Agent Gideon;_

_Don't think for a moment that I am done with you. You were the cause of my father's death, and you will suffer the consequences for your actions._

_Dr. Reid was only the beginning. In time, everyone you love and hold dear will be gone, and you will be alone – just like you are forcing me to live my life; alone._

_It hurts – doesn't it?_

_Sienna_

There was not a breath drawn in the entire interrogation room as the message slowly dissolved on the screen. 

Hotch was the first to break the silence. "Why does she refer to Reid in past tense?"

"Because she's done with him." Gideon's stomach twisted into an agonizing knot, threatening to force him to vomit. 

JJ stood up and slowly walked towards the door, holding her forehead. She staggered as she reached the entrance, and grabbed the door post with her free hand.

Emily rose and took her arm. "Are you okay?"

JJ shook her head. "No... I..." She slapped her hand in front of her mouth and bent over slightly.

The brunette quickly took a good hold of her colleague, leading her towards the bathroom. 

The three men were left in the small room, all waiting for the same thing; the next clue. Morgan shook his head in dismay. "I'm no goddamn Nancy Drew; give us something to work with!"

As on cue, a link appeared on the red screen, accompanied by the usual textbox. Morgan swiftly clicked the link, and another YouTube-video played before them.

When the film had ended, the three simply stared at the screen. "Follow my finger where? What map?"

--

Reid sat slumped down against the wall. The room was still dim, and that was fine with him. Darkness was horrifying and the light was too bright for his weary eyes. The young doctor had nothing to focus on except his own breathing and his heartbeats. 

To keep from going crazy, he counted every heartbeat he could feel in his chest. It kept his mind busy; momentarily kept him from thinking about whether he would die or not. Hearing his heartbeats reminded him that he was still alive.

The hatch broke the silence as it opened with a deafening creak. Reid cautiously looked at the opening above him, not moving a muscle to approach it. There was now no telling who or what would come into his cell.

But the only thing making its way down the hatch was the familiar basket. The young agent could feel the smell of it the moment it entered the room. It was food.

As the claw released the basket on the floor and returned to the room above, Reid strenuously rose and shuffled over to see what was in it. What he saw made his mouth water.

It was a bowl of chili, a container of milk, an apple and a piece of green Jell-O. Placed across the bowl was a plastic spoon.

Reid pounced on the basket, every inch of his skin screaming in protest as he bent over to retrieve the food. Like an animal protecting its prey, the young man retreated into one of the corners, holding his meal tight in his hands.

Practically throwing the food into his mouth, he began to wonder why he was getting this feast.

_I must have been good! Yes, that's it. I've been good. I deserve food now. Food, oh God, food!_

After finishing his meal, his stomach hurt terribly. The nutrition hitting his system was not a pleasant experience; not when food only entered his body every other day or so. Breathing to relax his cramping stomach, he leaned back against the wall. His behind had gone numb a long time ago.

It took quite a while before the hatch opened again and the line returned to retrieve the basket. As it fell from the opening, Reid pulled his knees up to his chest, ignoring the pain shooting through his skin.

When the basket had been hauled up, the young doctor expected the hatch to close; but to his surprise it didn't. Instead, the basket returned; stopping halfway down, jerking slightly.

Not feeling up for any more perverted games, Reid decided to obey. Rising, he shamefully tried to shield himself from the prying eyes watching him. Keeping one hand over his privates, he reached into the basket to find the anticipated note.

And there it was. The basket returned up, and the hatch slammed closed. Holding the piece of paper in his free hand, he read the note – and almost began to cry.

_Dr. Reid. The dinner you have just consumed contained a large __amount of very powerful laxative. This may be a problem to you, as your toilet is clogged; and probably beginning to fill up by now. _

_This is what I want from you: an apology for being childish, insubordinate and foul mouthed to me. You will deliver this apology standing in the middle of the room with your hands behind your back, looking straight into the camera. Don't forget to speak in a loud and clear voice._

_This is what you will receive: a plunger, and a roll of toilet paper._

_You will get the reward after you apologize._

Reid stared at the note in terror. He was already dangerously dehydrated; this would worsen his condition considerably. Looking up at the camera, there was no doubt in his mind that they had actually put something in his food.

He could feel his stomach cramping; there wasn't much time. He came to a decision. Walking out in the middle of the room, he took his hand off his privates and placed it on his back with the other. Biting down hard, he raised his eyes towards the camera, looking straight into it.

The shame and humiliation raced through his body, making his face blush and eyes tear up. Trying to steady himself, he cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm...sorry for acting like a child."

The words burned his mouth as he resisted the urge to heave from the total humiliation he had to endure.

"I'm sorry for not being obedient and for using such foul language."

He had to dig his fingernails into his wrists behind his back to keep from crying.

"I'm sorry that I have been so rude and I'm sorry for my outburst before."

He bit his lip.

"Please forgive me."

Standing silent in the middle of the room, Reid could feel the oncoming explosion in his lower regions, and he threw himself on the toilet just in the nick of time.

The smell was revolting.

The young doctor felt his insides contorting as he cringed on the porcelain bowl, holding his stomach tight. Small cries of pain escaped him occasionally as he bent over to ease the pressure.

After a while of struggling with his bodily functions, he heard the hatch open. This time, there was no basket, simply a plunger being thrown down onto the floor, accompanied with a roll of toilet paper.

Reid cried.

_Oh God, it hurts! Why! I didn't do anything! I was being good! Oh, God!_

He braced himself as another wave of pain shot through him; making his insides burn and tearing his lower extremities apart.


	18. The Map to Insanity

**A/N: Beta read and bunny-enhanced byt the Gublerific editor frog! Please don't kill me. Seriously. Don't kill me.**

Reid fell to his knees, exhausted. The task of unclogging the toilet after his ordeal had left him completely spent, and he could no longer stand up. His outside hurt from the previous beating, and his insides were rebelling against him; trying to escape through his stomach.

All he could hear was his own strained breath as he let his eyes close and his head tilt backwards against the wall. The young doctor's heartbeats weren't nearly as loud as they once were, having slowed down to a steady pace.

Reid could no longer feel his wounds. His natural defense system had kicked in some time ago and shut off the nerve endings signaling pain to the brain. 

The young man slumped down on his side against the wall. Lying on the cold concrete he tried to imagine what life would be like if he would make it out of this godforsaken hell hole.

_I'd probably need therapy for the rest of my life. Do I really want to go through my life constantly looking over my shoulder, fearing that someone will kidnap me again...and again? And women; what about women?_

_Will I ever be able to trust a woman again after this?_

Trying to lick his cracked lips, the young agent found that he had no saliva in his mouth. The word cotton mouth didn't even come close to the dryness reigning in his mouth. He needed water – badly.

Slowly rising, he leaned on the wall as he made his way over to the corner where he kept his precious drinking glass. After retrieving it with trembling fingers, he ventured over to the water bottle. Reid estimated the remaining amount of water to be somewhere between four and five glasses, reasonably filled.

As he lifted the container, the exertion overwhelmed him and he felt faint as he began to wobble. Having no strength left to hold the still heavy container, it slipped from his weak hands and hit the floor with a thud; and a crash.

The bottle had hit the glass, shattering it.

Reid could cry. The remaining water poured out over the floor before he could do anything about it. As he raised the bottle to its upright position, only a few mouthfuls remained in it.

Lifting the now fairly light bottle to his lips, he managed to swallow the last drops of fluid lingering in it. 

Dropping the container on the concrete, he dropped to the floor, eagerly licking the slightly jagged surface to catch whatever liquid he could get into his system.

The shard of glass ripping against his lip made him jerk his head up. Holding his mouth, the young agent felt blood running from his lip down through his fingers. He realized there was no way he could drink that water, mixed with pieces of glass.

Crawling away from the puddle of glass-mixed water, he went to his secure corner, still holding his mouth. Strangely enough, his lip hurt more than any other part of his body.

_The glass. The glass. The glass. I broke it. I broke it. I broke it. Naughty. Naughty. Naughty. Punish. Punish. Punish._

The dehydration; the malnutrition; the mind games; the abuse; the sleep deprivation; it all finally became too much for the young man to handle.

Reid put his hands on his head and began to roughly rock back and forth. His breathing started to speed up and with every breath came a small cry. Clawing at his scalp, his cries became louder, and more desperate; nearly manic.

_If I punish myself first, they won't do it! They won't have to go through the trouble! I have to punish myself for being naughty!_

The young doctor began pulling at his short tests of hair, banging his head against the concrete behind him. 

Reid wanted to be sure that he had punished himself enough not to get another 'visit'.

Crawling over to the puddle of water, he searched the floor for a suitable piece of glass. The young doctor ran his hands over the floor, nicking and cutting them in the process before he found the shard of choice.

Standing up, he stared at the camera; a manic smile on his lips.

"I was bad! I broke the glass! But look, I'm punishing myself! Look! Look!"

Putting the shard of glass to his right thigh, he let it dig into the soft flesh, creating a gash about three inches long; but not too deep. Blood poured from the wound, as Reid laughed.

"Look! Look! You don't have to do it! I'm doing it myself!"

He let out another manic laughter as he let the shard cut through the skin and flesh of the other thigh. Crimson blood ran down his legs, gathering in small puddles by his feet.

Squeezing the almost triangular piece of glass in his hand, blood trickled through his fingers. His eyes had no focus; and he felt no pain. Just release.

"I'm good now, see?" he called. "I'm a good boy! Not naughty; good!"

The young agent staggered around in the cell, laughing absently. His mind was no longer with him. The sounds emerging from his throat could not be directly described as laughter, but not as an expression of any other feeling either. They were just...sounds.

Reaching a wall, Reid walked straight into it nose first, and it began bleeding. Still, the young man felt no pain. His eyes stared blankly out into nothingness as he still smiled; although it looked more like a horrible grimace than a smile.

"I'm a good boy... I'm a good boy... I'm a good boy..." he repeated in a mumbling voice as he kept pacing.

The young man felt a veil of black settling over his eyes as his knees gave in, sending him to the flood like a bag of cement. Drifting away from consciousness, the phrase echoed in his absent head.

_I'm a good boy..._

--

"This is insane." Emily practically threw the book over the table, nearly hitting Hotch sitting at the other side. "Follow your finger? What the hell does that even mean!"

The entire BAU was becoming more and more irate with the pointless riddles supposed to lead them to Reid. They had _nothing _to go on.

"She's making us play a goddamn child's game to find Reid, like some deranged cat-and-mouse setup." Morgan leaned on the table as he placed his entire weight on his knuckles. "This has _got_ to end."

"Yeah, but how? We have the UnSub's identity and her motive, the victimology is done and we know they're in Michigan. We just have no way of knowing _where _in Michigan they are." 

There was desperation in the air as the BAU put their heads together in attempt after attempt to solve the riddles flashing before them on the screen of the small laptop.

Gideon was at his worst. His analytical sense was taking heavy blows as his mind constantly drifted back to the disturbing images he had seen earlier; Reid lying naked on the floor, crying. It was hard keeping his head together knowing that his protégé was being mistreated this way – and all because of him.

Hotch began to lose faith. He didn't want to, but the situation was sincerely hopeless. Reid had been missing for a week, and the team had tried for five days to find him, only to come to a complete stop. Was there nothing more they could do?

Suddenly, the door flew open and two officers holding a perp by the arms barged in. Hotch flew up, meeting the men halfway.

"What are you doing? This room's taken."

One of the officers realized their mistake. "Oh, sorry sir! We forgot you guys were in here. We'll take the next one. Sorry for the inconvenience."

"No problem."

The officers led the perp down the hall. The BAU could hear the perp yelling profanities at the uniformed men holding him.

"Let go of me, you pigs! I haven't done anything!"

"Yeah, it's not a crime to break into cars," one of the officers said in a mocking voice.

A moment's silence, then came the officer's voice again.

"Oh, you're flipping me the bird now? I already _know_ the way to the UP, thank you very much. Now get in there!"

A door slammed in the hallway and the room was once again reasonably silent.

Morgan frowned. _What did he just say?_ Rising from his chair, he raced out into the hallway, opening the door that had just slammed shut.

"Hey!" The officer who had barged into the BAU-room a moment ago turned to Morgan. "You have your own room!"

"Yeah, yeah." Morgan had a hunch. "Look, just two things: what the hell is the 'UP,' and what did you just say about knowing the way there?"

Furrowing his brow, the officer looked skeptically at the agent before him. "Well, he flipped me off."

"So?"

"So, here in Michigan, everyone uses their hand as kind of a state map, at least here in the Mitten. The 'UP' is the Upper..."

"Come again?"

"You definitely must not be from here. Look." The officer held out his right hand, fingers together; thumb out; palm up. "Michigan looks like this. And when you flip someone off..." He bent all fingers except his middle finger. "...it looks like you're giving directions to the Upper Peninsula. Why do you...? Hey!"

But Morgan had already left the room. Running down the hall and into the interrogation room occupied by the BAU, he ripped the map of Michigan straight off the wall, slamming it down on the table.

Everyone rose, shocked as well as excited; what had he found?

"Morgan, what is it?" Hotch joined his subordinate by the map.

"The map we carry with us at all times; it's our hand!" Morgan was excited, holding out his hand in the same fashion as the officer just had. "The officer just told me that flipping someone off was like someone giving directions to the Upper Peninsula!"

"Follow your middle finger." Gideon stood beside Hotch, leaning over the map.

"Exactly!" Morgan held out his hand and traced the map on the table. "Alright, cities and communities along the "middle finger": Mackinaw City, Indian River, Gaylord, Grayling, anything ring a bell?"

Concurrent shaking of heads. 

Morgan continued. "Roscommon, Houghton Lake, Prudenville, Harrison, Clare..."

"Wait!" Emily slammed her hand down on the table, running to the other side of the table, grabbing a thick book. Swiftly flipping through it, she found what she was looking for. Reading from the book, everything finally fell into place.

"It was then that Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, came into the studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor."

"The emperor and empress. Where is that from?" Hotch felt hope returning to his body with every breath he took.

"Harrison Bergeron, by Kurt Vonnegut." Emily slammed the book shut.

They all looked at the map. Harrison.

JJ pointed at the roads junctioning in the city. "Look. M-127 and M-61." Remembering the numbers scribbled down on the notebook in Cate's room, the jumble finally made sense. It wasn't '6' _and_ '1' – it was '61'. 61-127.

Dropping everything but the laptop, the entire BAU rushed out the entrance of the interrogation room, through the police station and out on the parking lot to their waiting SUV's.

Taking off with screaming tires, their sights were now set on a small town in Northern Michigan– Harrison, MI. 

Hotch nearly tore his phone from his pocket, dialing with one hand and steering with the other. "This is SSA Aaron Hotchner; I need every single available agent and officer in Claire County and the surrounding areas! We have a kidnapped agent held prisoner somewhere in Harrison! Well, fix it!"

Hanging up the phone with a slap, he threw it on the dashboard. Faith had flooded back into his body like a tidal wave. He finally felt something resembling hope.

_We're coming, Reid. We're coming._

--

The young agent lay on his back looking at the ceiling. His eyes were tired and his body weak. Having snapped out of his previously manic state, he began to feel the pain of the wounds he had inflicted on himself.

_What am I doing?_ he thought. _Oh, God.. Please help me. I can't...can't..._

He blinked away a tear as he turned his head towards the wall.

_What's happening to me...?_

Suddenly, the hatch began to open. Reid curled up into fetal position on the floor, covering as much of himself as he possibly could.

This time there was no basket. No line. Just a note floating down towards him, hitting the floor without a sound. The hatch remained open.

Reid pulled himself up to his hands and knees and slowly crawled over to the piece of paper. Gingerly taking it in his non-bloodied hand, he read the short message.

_It's been a blast, Dr. Reid. Sorry I have to go. Have a nice life, however little you have left._

Reid panicked. He flew up, wincing in pain.

"No! Don't leave me! Don't leave me here, please!" he cried up into the opening, ignoring his exposed position. "For the love of God, don't leave me here!"

The hatch slowly slammed shut and was locked tight; once again the cell was silent. The young doctor was utterly terrified.

"Don't leave me! Please! I'll be good, I swear!"

Suddenly, the room was engulfed in a deep opaque. This sent Reid over the edge completely. He was left alone in the dark, in a cell that no one would ever find.

"No! Oh, God, **NO!**"


	19. Letting Go

**A/N: Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog - thanks sweets! Now, there are certain lines in this fic that connect with people that Reid has come in contact with in his past. Can you guess who they are?**

Saturday

Having arrived the night before, the BAU gathered up the agents and officers for a briefing. JJ handed out copies of the pictures of Sienna, Cate and Tracy, and of Reid. The briefing was over in less than fifteen minutes, and the search patrols were on their way.

Harrison was a small town, having only around 2000 inhabitants. Hotch was thankful that the search area had been narrowed down from 100,000 square miles to 4, but it still didn't make the search easier. Finding Reid was just as hard as it had been the day before, but at least now they were in the right city.

The pictures circulated on the street during the entire morning. Officers were knocking on doors and stopping cars in traffic trying to get a positive match on one of the faces portrayed, but they all came up empty handed.

Having started the search at seven that morning, the BAU were less than pleased at 1pm when nothing at all had been discovered

"We have cops knocking on doors and agents swarming the entire town, how the hell could we not have found him yet?!" Morgan was on his last nerve.

The BAU was standing in front of the Harrison police station gathered around the two government issued SUV's.

"Just relax." Hotch was the voice of reason as always. "We pick up where we left off; Morgan and Gideon go west, check out the farms and estates. Emily and I will go east and do the same. The officers have the town; I'll send an order to the field agents to move out of town, searching the surroundings. JJ, you stay here; if you hear something, anything – call us."

Nodding, the agents split up and got into the cars. The frustration filling their minds was worse now than at any point during the search, as they now knew that Reid was within arms grasp; but they still couldn't find him.

-o-o-o-

"_Spencer... Spencer... Wake up, Spencer..._

Reid slowly woke from his fear-induced unconsciousness. The concrete under his cheek was cold and a bit jagged. The young agent moved his head slightly as if listening closer. "Mhm..?"

"_You shouldn't lie on the floor like that, you could catch a cold."_

The young man slowly opened his eyes, but there was no change to his vision; the room was pitch black. Shutting his eyes once again, he wished that the blissful unconsciousness would return. _Who's talking to me?_

Rolling over onto his stomach, he winced in pain as the relatively fresh wounds on his thighs came into contact with the rough concrete floor. At least they had stopped bleeding and were scabbing up a bit.

Slowly, he raised himself up to a sitting position against the wall. Leaning his head against the hard surface, the young doctor let his hands blindly examine his body; finding more wounds and welts than he wanted.

He hurt everywhere. Every joint in his body was in a complete uproar, and his head was ready to detach itself from his neck and find another host.

"_You should drink something."_

"What?" Reid sluggishly turned his head to where the voice had come from. In the deep opaque it was impossible to make out anything.

"_You look terrible, you should drink something."_

"I don't have any..." The young doctor stopped mid-sentence. He was alone in the cell, he knew that. Who was talking to him? The female voice was so familiar, but in his confused and exhausted state he couldn't place it. "Who are you?"

"_Spencer Reid, I am disappointed. Of all people you should know __**me**_

"But I don't... I..." Reaching up to his head, Reid clutched his hands around his temples. The headache was nearly unbearable.

_Who's talking to me? I'm alone here! There is no one here! Oh God, no... _

The realization came over him, causing his heart to skip a beat. The young doctor was hallucinating, hearing voices. His breathing increased, threatening to send the young man into hyperventilation.

"This isn't real..." he mumbled. "It's just the dehydration. I'm not crazy."

"_Oh, Dr. Reid – but you are!"_

This was a different voice, male. Reid jerked his head up, looking around to locate the source of the sound. "Stop! Stop talking to me!"

The logical part of his head told him that he was delusional from the dehydration, the pain and the sleep deprivation. But the part of him that was less logic; the self-preserving part; told him an array of other things. Unfortunately for young Dr. Reid, he now listened more to the illogical side of his head than the one that really made sense.

Leaning against the wall, the young doctor struggled to rise to his feet, only to immediately lose control of his legs; plummeting to the floor.

"_Lie still, kid, you're gonna hurt yourself. Man, you are one sick dude."_

"Stop!" Reid cried out into the darkness. He lay on his side, curling up on the cold hard concrete, trying to block the voices out with his hands. "Why are you doing this to me?!"

His eyes were wide open as he stared out into the black cell, desperately trying to find the source of the voice. But there was nothing. Just the deathly silent darkness around him.

"_It all ends today."_

A third voice made its way into Reid's mind, making him whimper in fear. "Please!" he cried. "Please, leave me alone...!"

"_Just ask the question, sir knight."_

A fourth voice spoke to him through the darkness. The young doctor could have sworn that there were people standing all around him, and the thought shook him to his very core. There were no people around him, he was positive; at least he hoped there were none. But still, it felt like there was a crowd around him, leaning over him; talking, murmuring, whispering.

Reid tossed and turned everywhere, screaming his lungs out. Banging his fists against his head, he tried to get the voices out of his head. "Get out, get out, **get out!** Leave me alone!"

"_You really are a worthless child, Spencer."_

Reid stopped twisting; froze at the sound of the eerily familiar voice. Staring straight up into the ceiling he lay on the floor, holding his head.

"_You were always such a disappointment__. Normal boys play football and join the little league. You had your nose so far down in those books; no wonder you look like a stick figure, you never move!"_

The voice scolded the young man lying terrified on the floor.

"_Why couldn't you have made me proud, Spencer? If you had been a better son, maybe I wouldn't have left!"_

"Dad..." Reid whimpered through his tears. "Dad..."

-o-o-o-

Hotch and Emily had just gotten back in the SUV after speaking to a farmer living a few miles west of Harrison. The conversation had been like all others; fruitless. The farmer hadn't been in town for over two weeks, and not many people came by his property, just the occasional hunter and hiker, and none of them matched the description given by the agents.

As he started the engine, Hotch let a deep sigh escape his lips. Emily turned to him. "Hotch, we're gonna find him."

"I know, I'm just..." he trailed off as he steered the SUV out on the dirt road leading to the main highway.

Emily nodded in understanding and began flipping through the wad of papers in her lap. "Okay... Next place on the list is about a mile and a half down the road, then turn right. The road doesn't even have a name, according to the map."

Slipping on his tinted shades, Hotch put in the next gear, racing down over the dirt and gravel, sending it flying every which way as the large vehicle made its way to the main road.

The voices were many more now, all talking at once. Reid had no way of telling them apart. He squirmed on the floor, trying to back away from the pandemonium going on inside his head. Hitting the wall, he found the familiar corner and curled up in it, still clutching his head.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! Please!!"

Suddenly, everything went silent. All the young doctor could hear was his own strained breath and the pounding of his heart. Letting his hands slowly drop from his ears, he wiped away the tears running down his face.

The darkness was driving him crazy; playing tricks with his mind. The intense fear mixed with the poor state of his body created a perfect breeding ground for insanity.

From deep in the darkness came a hoarse, yet soothing voice.

"_Reid."_

The young doctor looked up, expecting to see the owner of the voice in front of him; but was only greeted by the inherent absence of light.

"_This can end, Reid."_

Frightened, the young agent looked around, trying to get a bearing on the source of the one speaking to him. It sounded like he was standing right behind him. But the young man had his back against the wall, how could it be?

"Wha-what do you mean?"

"_Do you really want to end up like your mother?"_

Tears filled Reid's eyes as he hid his face in his palms. "Oh, God..."

"_You don't have to live that way, Reid. There is a way to end it right here, right now."_

"No..."

"_No one knows where you are, and no one will find you. You are alone in the dark and you hear people who aren't there. Is this the way you want to live the short period of time you have left?"_

"Please, don't..."

"_You're gonna die anyway, Reid. Why not do it – like you said earlier – on your own terms?"_

"I can't..."

"_You can. I know you can. __You're stronger than you look, Reid. I believe in you. I trust you. You're like a son to me."_

"I'm afraid..."

"_But I'm here with you. You don't have to be afraid of anything."_

"I..."

"_Do it, Reid. Take control. You haven't had control of anything in __days; now take control of your own life."_

"I..."

"_Do it. Do it, Reid. Do it."_

The young doctor cried as he pulled himself away from the corner. Tears of fear and dissolution ran down his cheeks. Searching blindly on the concrete floor, he found what he was looking for and crawled back into the corner.

"_It won't hurt, I promise. I'__m right here with you all the way."_

_-o-o-o-_

Gideon and Morgan had just arrived at a farm six miles east of Harrison. Stepping out of the SUV, they were greeted by a farmer emerging from the entrance of the red wooden house. The two agents pulled out their credentials and showed them to the farmer.

"Good afternoon sir, I'm agent Gideon this is agent Morgan, we're with the FBI."

"The FBI?" The farmer looked very confused as he scratched his head. "What brings you folks all the way up here?"

"We have a couple of questions we'd like to ask you." Morgan held out the photos of the girls and Reid for the farmer to take. "Have you seen any of these people?"

The farmer eyed the photos with squinting eyes. "I'm sorry, sirs, my eyesight isn't what it used to be. Can't say that I've seen them. Are they missing or something?"

"The man is a federal agent who was kidnapped last week; the women in thee photographs are believed to have abducted him.

"Oh, my..."

"Have you seen anything out of the ordinary; cars you don't know, any other people not local?" Gideon was gripping at the last straw, trying to find out anything about the situation; any little detail.

The farmer looked thoughtful for a moment, and then it seemed to come to him. "Come to think of it, there was this one thing..."

The two agents held their breaths.

"I don't know if it's anything important, though."

"Let us be the judge of that." Gideon bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for the farmer's reply.

"Well... There's this farm about a mile or two up the road – the old Bailey house. The Baileys moved out like four months ago, they got a real sweet deal on the house. I've never seen the new owners, but there has been some serious remodeling going on down there."

Morgan calculated the timeline. Four months ago Sienna Nolan returned to the US, there was a good chance she was the buyer. But where would she have gotten the money?

"There's been a car driving up and down this road a couple of times this week, I've never seen that car before."

"What kind of car was it?" Morgan felt a strong charge of hope surge through him.

"Aaah, a green one? Can't make out any make or model from this distance. It took off yesterday afternoon at a totally insane speed, haven't seen it since."

Gideon pulled up his phone, dialing. "Garcia?"

"_Did you find him?!"_

"Not yet. Can you send me a picture of George Fletcher?"

"_You'll have it in less than a minute." _Click

"What more can you tell us about the car, or the house?" Morgan kept pressing the farmer to think.

The farmer shook his head. "I'm sorry, that's pretty much all I know. I go by the house a few times a week, and I've seen the vans and construction vehicles all up until the week before last. I guess they're done with whatever it was they were doing."

"Does the house look any different?"

"No, not really."

"Then what did they renovate?" Morgan looked at Gideon.

Gideon was about to answer as his phone beeped. Garcia had sent the picture of Cate's boyfriend. The older agent held the phone up to the farmer. "Have you seen this boy?"

The farmer looked at the picture for a moment, and lit up. "Yeah, I've seen him! In town, in the grocery store. Wait…come to think of it... Damn, that is the kid who drives the green car!"

"Gideon." Morgan gave his colleague a look, and it was quickly returned. Charging back to the car, both agents pulled out their cell phones, furiously dialing.

"Hotch, we have a location! The end of West Arnold Lake Road!" Morgan threw himself into the car as Gideon forced the SUV into gear.

"JJ, get every agent out to the old Bailey farm nine miles east of Harrison! I think we've found him; we're on our way out there now. Alert EMS, get them out here."

Tires spinning, the SUV kicked up gravel all over the farmer's front porch as it sped away towards the old Bailey farm.

-o-o-o-

"_Go ahead, Reid. Don't be scared. I'm here with you."_

Reid's hand trembled as he held the triangular piece of glass tightly. His mind was empty except for the soothing voice talking to him; encouraging him to take control.

It hurt when the glass sank into the tight skin of his left wrist. The young agent cringed, but never eased up on the pressure falling on his skin. Slowly moving the shard over his flesh, a gash opened up; crimson blood practically pouring out of him.

Moving the shard to his other hand, the young man tried to apply the same amount of pressure on the right wrist, but the burning pain was too bad. The second gash was only half as deep, but still let the blood flow freely out of his circular system.

"_Do it again. It's not enough."_

"It...hurts!"

"_It won't hurt for long. Now do it."_

Re-applying the shard to the shallow wound on his right wrist, Reid roughly pushed the shard into his flesh, causing the gash to open wide. Blood gushed out.

There was no pain. Only relief. He had taken control, he was in charge. Leaning against the wall, he let his body slide into the corner; head resting in the junction of the walls.

He was so tired. All he wanted was to sleep.

_It's over... It's finally over. No more fear, no more pain. Just peace. I can sleep now. Oh God, I can sleep now..._

Closing his eyes, he slipped slowly into a makeshift unconsciousness; not aware, but not unaware either. He felt the blood running over his lap where he laid his hands. The warm fluid was smooth and smelled slightly metallic.

Reid's breathing became less and less frequent; every breath a strain.

"_That's my boy, Reid. I knew you could do it. It'll be over soon. It'll all be over soon."_

_-o-o-o-_

Driving up to the old Bailey farm, Morgan and Gideon rushed out of the car. Hearing sirens in the distance, they knew backup was on the way, and they drew their guns running up to the house.

"FBI!" Morgan yelled the second before he kicked the door in. The two agents barged into the silent house.

The house was completely empty. Not a single piece of furniture, no curtains, nothing. Morgan and Gideon ran through the first floor, clearing every room.

Moments later, they were accompanied by a number of uniformed police officers and agents in full gear. But they found nothing. The house was clean, emptied of every shred of trace left by the suspects. And Reid was nowhere to be found.

The basement was searched, the barn was searched, and so was the tool shed – nothing.

Morgan kicked a rock clean over the yard in pure frustration. "Damnit!"

"This doesn't make sense. The farmer said there had been construction vehicles here for months. What did they renovate? The house is a dump." Gideon paced up and down the gravel walkway leading up to the front door.

"There's nothing here!!" Morgan was about to go into a fit of rage.

"He has to be. Everything leads here."

-o-o-o-

The silence was so wonderful. Reid could feel the last ounce of energy leave his body as his heartbeats slowed more and more.

"_I'm here with you. Don't be scared. I'm here with you."_

_-o-o-o-_

Hotch and Emily drove up to the house where Morgan and Gideon stood waiting and scowling. As they ran up to their colleagues, Hotch had hope written all over his face. "Did you find him?"

Gideon shook his head slowly. "No."

"Goddamnit!" Emily yelled furiously as she turned away from the men around her.

"This is insane. He _has_ to be here!" Morgan clenched his fists.

"Morgan, just because you _want_ him to be here, doesn't mean that he has to..." Hotch began.

"Morgan." Gideon interrupted his superior. Something had caught his eye.

His younger colleague turned to him. "What?"

"Did the house have inside plumbing?"

"Yeah, two bathrooms. Why?"

"Why does a house with two bathrooms need an outhouse?"

The entire team looked over where Gideon's eyes were directed, and they all saw it. The small red outhouse set near the adjacent forest. Not even a second passed before Gideon took to running towards the small building, quickly followed by his team.

Ripping the door open, Gideon's eyes fell on the floor; and suddenly everything inside him jumped. The large metal hatch protruding from the ground was not something you would usually find in an outhouse.

Gideon threw himself on the hatch, yanking at the lock, making it click open. "Reid!" The older agent's cry was that of hope and expectation, fear and anxiousness. "Reid, I'm coming!"

Finally getting the hatch open, all they could see as it opened was a thick darkness. "Reid!" Gideon cried. "Give me a flashlight! Reid! Answer me!"

As the flashlight hit his fingers, he let the light shine into the dark pit below him. "Reid!" Moving the light around the cell, it finally fell on something that would cause the entire team nightmares for the rest of their lives.

Reid was in the corner, half sitting, half lying on the concrete; naked. His stomach, legs and arms were covered in blood.

"Good God! Reid!" Gideon threw his legs into the opening, jumping straight into the darkness; Morgan following right behind him.

The two men ran up to their youngest colleague. Morgan grabbed his throat to find a pulse, while Gideon pulled his shirt off, covering the young man lying on the floor. "Reid! Reid, can you hear me?" Gideon pressed his hands over his young colleague's wrists.

"Get EMS down here! I can't get a pulse!" Morgan pulled his shirt of, placing it over Reid's lower half. "Reid! Come on, kid! Stay with us!"

"Reid. Listen to me. I know you can hear me. Hold on." Gideon held Reid's wrists tightly as they could hear the EMS making their way into the cell, flashlights and stretcher ready.

"Hold on, Reid. Hold on."

**A/N again: Nervous? **


	20. Family

**A/N: And so you are all dying to find out what happened to our young doctor? Well, here it is. Beta read by the Gublerific editor frog! Enjoy!**

Sunday

The BAU sat in the hospital corridor, waiting. There had been no news about Reid since they arrived at the Mid Michigan Medical Center six hours earlier, and the entire team was in a state of dissolution.

Gideon sat in a chair, covering his face in his palms as he leaned on his elbows. He couldn't believe this was happening; all because of him. Reid had been tormented and abused for a week, all on the count of a demented woman who was determined to get vengeance on Gideon for something he hadn't done. It hurt the senior agent to know that the one person in the world he would never want to place in danger was the one who had been subjected to the torture. On the other hand, that was exactly what Sienna had wanted.

Hotch had been on the phone for two hours, calling the local real estate agencies, airlines, train companies, bus lines and car rentals trying to find out where the women – and George – were going. He had come up empty handed with every single one of them. None of them had any listings of any of the women or George. The pictures had been sent out to every single train- and bus station in the state of Michigan, as well as the airports, in hope of catching the group before they left the state.

Garcia had been notified by Morgan that they had found Reid, but that he was in such a bad state that there was no way of telling if he'd survive or not. She hadn't left her office in 46 hours; she slept in her chair and asked other agents to bring her food. She wanted to be available at any time during the desperate chase for the team's youngest member. Now she was still in her office, hovering over the phone – waiting for it to ring and give her news about Reid.

JJ tried to be strong, but failed miserably. She wasn't built to handle these kinds of things. Locking herself in the bathroom every now and then, she cried sad and angry tears, swearing to herself that whoever had done this to Spence would be severely punished. If not by her – then by the system. And maybe Morgan.

Emily had reluctantly fallen asleep in a chair. After three days of minimal sleep, the strain finally got to her and her system gave in, and she drifted off into a blissful state of obliviance.

Morgan paced up and down the hallway. In his mind, anger mixed with desperation and fear of losing his friend. The kid was like a little brother to him. To have this happen to his junior colleague was a nightmare. If there was one person in the world that didn't deserve this, it was Reid. _He couldn't harm a fly; why can't he catch a break?_ he thought.

Everyone in the hallway had their insides twisted into painful knots in wait for news on the condition of Reid.

Hotch hung up the phone for the hundredth time in the last six hours. "I just talked to the real estate agent who sold the house to Sienna. She bought the house cash, using the name Laura Nolan."

"Her mother." Gideon never even met his superior's eyes when answering.

"Yes. And there are no paper trails to the building of the cell. A local construction company admitted to doing the work while being paid double the money under the table, as long as no receipts were administered."

"Of course. Limit the paper trail; limit the knowledge of your identity." JJ came back to the hallway after one of her trips to the bathroom. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"There are no records of any of the suspects having left the state. Every road has roadblocks from here to Grand Rapids and Detroit." Hotch sighed and rubbed his eyes. The fatigue was getting to him.

Morgan's phone began chirping in his pocked, and he answered. "Hey Garcia, you're on speaker phone."

_"Guess what I just dug up from under five megatons of paperwork?"_

"Tell me."

"_Seems Sienna Nolan inherited a rather large amount of money after her father passed away."_

"How large?"

_"6.8 million dollars. How's that for an inheritance?"_

"How was this not in the paperwork before?" Hotch looked annoyed.

_"From what I can tell, she had the money wired to an account in Switzerland before it even hit the system."_

"Smart girl." Gideon mumbled under his breath.

"That would explain the buying of the house in cash." Morgan nodded.

"And the building of the chamber. That thing had more wiring than the White House." JJ wiped an involuntary tear from her cheek as she tried steadying her voice.

"Garcia, can you check if anything else has been rented, booked or bought in Laura Nolan's name in the Mid-Michigan area?" Hotch had a small hunch in the back of his head.

_"Not that I can see from here. But I only have the official companies here; there are a lot of small private rental companies in the area. I'll dig a bit more and I'll get back to you. Call me the moment you hear anything."_

"Will do, doll. Get some sleep now." Morgan smiled into the phone.

_"Not until I hear Reid's gonna be okay."_

"That's my stubborn little girl. I'll call you." Click.

The team fell into silence once again as they sat in the hallway, anxiously awaiting news on their youngest member. No one even noticed the doctor walking up to them.

"Spencer Reid?"

Everyone flew up from their seats, approaching the man in green, holding a chart. Hotch reached him first. "Yes. I'm agent Hotchner. How is he?"

The doctor sighed heavily. "When he came in here he had lost a large amount of blood after the cuts to the wrists. He also had several head traumas and broken ribs. His left arm was broken, as well as his nose, cheekbone and both collarbones. We had to remove his spleen during surgery due to damages. He was severely dehydrated and malnourished, and had suffered what I can only imagine was a number of blunt force traumas on various parts of his body." The doctor took a deep breath. "Your friend was in very bad shape when he was brought in."

"Is... Is he...?" Gideon couldn't finish the sentence, feeling tears rising to his eyes.

"Almost. We lost him for a moment on the operating table, but he is back with us again." The doctor gave a slight smile as he saw the relief on the agents' faces.

Morgan closed his eyes in utter relief. His "little brother" was alive.

"But, Agent Hotchner," the doctor continued, now with a sterner look on his face. "I have to tell you that his injuries were very severe, and at this point we can't even be certain that he will even wake up."

Hotch nodded slowly. "Can we see him?"

"He's coming out right now."

Turning around, the team saw Reid being wheeled out in a hospital bed. Rushing up to him, the BAU were met by a ghastly sight. They young agent's face was swollen nearly beyond recognition and there were cuts and bruises everywhere on his upper body. A tube in his throat helped him breathe.

Gideon took the young man's hand as they walked in the hallway, moving next to the bed. "Reid. You're gonna be okay. You're safe now."

"I'm sorry sir, you're gonna have to let go now." A nurse touched Gideon's arm.

"I want to go with him." Looking resolutely at the nurse, the older agent couldn't bare the thought of anyone taking Reid more than ten feet away from him right now.

"Are you his father?"

Gideon turned his eyes away from the nurse and looked at his colleague.

"Yes."

"Right this way, sir."

* * *

Slowly, Reid opened his sore and tired eyes. As his sight focused he expected to see the inside of the cell once again; its pale and barren walls staring back at him. But instead, he was greeted by a green ceiling. This bewildered the young agent.

_Where am I?_ Confused, he tried to orient himself by letting his eyes sweep over the green above him. Nothing made sense. He was lying on his back, covered with something soft.

_What is going on?_

As he blinked, he realized that one eye was completely useless; it was entirely blackened. His face felt stretched and its skin too tight for the flesh it covered. Trying to move, a white bolt of pain shot through his upper body, forcing the young doctor to lie still. He hurt everywhere; his entire body was in turmoil.

Turning his head slightly to the side, he saw a window. A window! And the sun was shining outside!

The window was partially open, and Reid could feel the mild breeze sweeping through the room; grazing his sore face. It was a wonderful feeling, one he hadn't felt in a very long time - fresh air.

But something else caught his eye as he had tilted his head.

_Morgan..!_

Morgan was sitting next to him, sleeping in a chair. Reid had never been happier to see his colleague.

_They found me! They saved me! I'm safe! They did it!_

Reid felt tears of happines and relief rush to his eyes. He tried to reach out for his friend, but lifting his hand was too much of a strain on the young man's body, and his hand stopped moving before it even started. He tried talking, but there was something in his mouth, obstructing his tongue.

The young man tried to spit the object out, but in his confused state he didn't realize he was on a ventilator and the tube down his throat was helping him to breath. It took him a few moments to understand what had been put inside him, and when he did – it truly dawned on him.

_I'm not in the cell anymore. I'm in a hospital. I'm safe! Oh, God, I'm safe! It's over... It's finally over..._

Moving his head to the right, he could see another one of his friends and colleagues. There was no mistaking the older agent by his side.

It was Gideon. He sat by the junior agent, holding his hand; but having fallen asleep in the chair with his head resting on his other hand.

_Gideon... I knew he was here with me. I knew all along._

Gathering up all the strength he could, the young doctor wrapped his slender fingers tightly around the rugged hand in his and squeezed it as hard as his body let him.

Gideon flinched. _I'm dreaming..._ he thought. But as he felt nimble fingers once again pressing his hand, the older agent opened his eyes.

And met with those of Reid.

"Reid!" Gideon was immediately awake, shooting up from his resting position.

Morgan also woke with a start. "Reid! You're awake!"

"It's good to see you, son." Gideon held his protégé's hand tightly in both of his as he gave the young man a warm smile.

Reid could neither speak nor move, but he blinked his eyes slowly at his senior colleague.

Morgan had taken Reid's other hand, holding it carefully. "You're gonna be okay, kid. You're safe now." The slightly cold, powerless and bruised hand in his gave him a slight squeeze.

Reid closed his eyes, forcing his lips to stretch, forming some type of grimace that could be interpreted as a smile. Morgan smiled back at him; a big, pearly white smile – warming Reid to his core.

Morgan gave Gideon a look and cautiously let go of the young agent's weak hand. "I'm gonna go call the others – and Garcia. You wouldn't believe how she's been calling to know about you! I'm gonna go calm her down. Be back in a while." Momentarily placing a hand on Gideon's shoulder, he left the room.

Gideon never took his eyes off Reid. The warm, fatherly smile resting on his lips made the young agent feel like a little boy who had just skinned his knee. The senior agent squeezed his junior's hand. "You're gonna be okay. I knew you were strong. I knew you could do it."

_But Gideon... I couldn't do it. You told me to do it, but I couldn't..._

Reid's fingers pressed against those of his senior as a tear ran down his cheek. There was so much he wanted to say to his mentor, but his body wasn't strong enough.

But no words were needed. Gideon knew. And Reid knew. The silence spoke enough for the both of them.

* * *

Not even half an hour later, Hotch, JJ and Emily barged in through the entrance of the hospital. Taking the stairs two steps at the time, they soon reached the corridor where Reid's room was located. Morgan met them in the hallway.

"He's awake, but not able to move or talk." Morgan had a relieved yet worried look on his face. "The doctor says it's a good thing he woke up; if he hadn't done that in the next hour or so... there wouldn't have been much hope that he ever would have."

JJ had been crying, everyone could see it on her face; the red, puffy eyes and the smeared mascara. This time, however, the tears had not been from desperation, but from happiness. Reid was alive. "Can we go in and see him?"

"Gideon's in there right now, I figured I'd give them some time. Look, we need to talk about what to tell him."

"Tell him about what?" Emily wondered.

"About the live feed. If he doesn't know about us watching, should we really tell him? I think it would break him completely."

"It's bad enough he had to live through that torture, but knowing that we saw parts of it...?" Hotch shook his head. "No. I think it's better if he doesn't find that out."

"Don't you think he deserves to know?" Emily tuned to her superior with a questioning look on her face.

"Would you?"

It made her think. Would I want to know that my colleagues had seen me beaten, tortured and humilated beyond every boundary possible?

"I guess not."

"Then it's settled. We don't mention it; at least for now." Hotch straightened the hastily buttoned shirt. "Let's go see our boy."

Entering the room, the three agents were both horrified and relieved to see their youngest member lying incapacitated in the hospital bed. Reid's eyes met with Hotch's and took on an excited look.

Hotch walked over to his junior colleague. "It's good to see you, Reid." He gave the young agent a warm smile as he felt his paternal instincts kick in. "We missed you." Walking around to the other side of the bed, he placed his hand over Reid's and squeezed it.

JJ stood behind Gideon, who still held a firm grip on Reid's other hand. "You're gonna be fine, Spence." She smiled at her younger colleague, who did his best to smile back from behind the tube. It felt so good to see her friend, even though he was in such a terrible state. At least he was alive.

"Yeah, it's just a matter of time before you're back in the bullpen, feeding us tidbits of useless information." Emily smiled and patted Reid's foot from the end of the bed. She was struggling to keep her face resonably straight, although all she wanted to do was to break down and cry in relief. It had to wait until she was back in the hotel room.

Reid tried to smile. He wanted to tell his team how happy he was that they were all there around him, holding him; encouraging him. He wanted to tell them 'thank you' for saving him. He wanted to tell them that he loved every single one of them. That they were his family.

But the tube down his throat refused to allow him to speak, and he remained silent and motionless. The tears rolling down his cheeks told every single word and feeling he meant to express.

There was a knock on the door and a nurse stepped in. Seeing the room filled with people, she was a bit startled but then smiled. "I'm afraid visiting hours are over. Mr. Reid needs to rest now. You can come back and see him in the morning."

The agents were a bit disappointed, having only gotten to lay a quick eye on their friend, but knew the nurse was right. Reid did need his rest. And maybe tomorrow he could be taken off the ventilator.

JJ gave Reid a kiss on the forehead before saying goodbye, so did Emily. Hotch carefully lay a hand on his subordinates shoulder and gave him a smile. "We'll come back tomorrow, Reid. You hang in there."

Reid blinked in response, a tear making its way down his cheek.

Morgan let one hand connect with that of his young friend and with the other he wiped away some tears lingering on Reid's face. Looking into his eyes, the older agent had a stern look on his face. "I hope you realize that you are never coming with me to a bar again? **Ever**." He then smiled and patted the limp hand he held before walking towards the door.

The young agent wanted to laugh at his colleagues joke, but it didn't work. There just wasn't enough strength.

Morgan turned back towards his co-workers. "Gideon. You coming?"

"No." The older agent still had his protégé's hand in his, and he was not planning on letting go.

"You need to rest too."

"I'll rest here. See you tomorrow."

Morgan nodded knowingly, and with a small smile, he closed the door.

Refusing to leave the room, Gideon stayed with Reid that night. He slept in an armchair the nurses had put in there for him. The rest of the team had rooms at a nearby hotel, and for the first time in an entire week they could all get a good night's sleep.

Reid slept like a baby on the morphine he'd been given because of the injuries he sustained during his ordeal.

A nurse poked her head into the room. She saw the older man sleeping silently in the armchair in the corner, and the young man who had been abused beyond recognition. Silently, she tip toed up to the bed where Reid was sleeping.

Letting her fingers graze the young man's short, uneven tests of hair with her fingers, she put her hand on the side of his face that wasn't covered in bandages.

"Poor boy," she whispered softly.

She looked at the young man's wrists, noticing the bandages. The young woman let her hand rest softly on Reid's left wrist.

"Why would you do something like that to yourself?"

Leaning over the sleeping man, she kissed him lightly on the forehead and smiled.

"You really shouldn't trust strange women, Dr. Reid."

Checking the IV one last time, the young brunette left the room, taking a final smiling look at the men in the room.

"See you later."


	21. There's No Place Like Home

**A/N: Final chapter, people! The aftermath is really doing a number on poor Dr. Reid..**

Four months had passed since the event in Michigan

Four months had passed since the event in Michigan. Reid had recovered from his injuries, but was still on sick leave. Hotch felt it best if the youngest member of his team returned in full health to the BAU rather than in a partially well state.

He had been in therapy since the incarceration in the underground cell, dealing with his trauma. It had been a condition he had to agree with if he wanted to return to the FBI at all; and the young agent willingly complied. A lot of issues had risen inside him after the time he spent in the cell, and he had a strong need to work them all out.

His team had visited him in his apartment numerous times, making sure he was all right and had enough food in his fridge. The young agent was terrible at eating properly, and sometimes needed to be reminded when he had forgotten a meal.

Gideon and Morgan had been the most frequent visitors. Morgan came around a couple of times a week to check up on his 'brother from another mother', as he called his young colleague, and always brought a pizza or some other food for them to eat while watching a movie or just talking.

Gideon also visited Reid a couple of times a week. The two talked for long periods; the older agent still feeling insanely guilty about what happened to his protégé. Reid appreciated the comforting conversations with his mentor, finding them more helpful than the sessions he had been having with his psychologist.

Having been told the story behind his abduction, Reid did not place any blame on Gideon for the actions of the obviously disturbed woman. Understanding that his older colleague had done nothing to cause Sienna's outbreak of irrational feelings, he assured Gideon that it wasn't his fault. However, the young agent had a feeling his assurance meant very little to his friend. He knew Gideon would curse himself for a very long period of time for this.

The therapy had been going well, and Reid had just been cleared to return to work. The young agent felt more than relieved as he got the paper in his hand. Going back to work was just what he needed. Four months of recovery and talking to a shrink he didn't particularly like had left him bored and restless, and he couldn't wait to get back in the bullpen.

Packing his satchel for his first day of work since the incident, he made sure to place a bottle of water among the papers and books in his bag. _Just in case_, he thought.

Putting away the dishes from the dinner with Morgan the night before, he ever so carefully placed the two glasses in the far back of the cabinet. _Keep them safe..._

As he stood by his closet choosing what to wear, the young agent felt a sudden twist in his stomach.

_I need more clothes...!_

Pulling out three pairs of boxer shorts from a drawer, he put on every single pair before slipping into a pair of brown slacks. The two pairs of socks made his shoes too tight, but it didn't bother the young agent.

A t-shirt under his striped shirt and a sweater vest; followed by a grey tie. Looking in the mirror he saw the scar under his right eye – and remembered.

The darkness; the pain; the humiliation; it all came to him in a single flash of light, making him throw his hands to his head, shutting his eyes tight. _It's over, I'm not there anymore!_ he yelled at himself inside his head.

And the memories went away…for now, anyway.

Looking up at the mirror, he looked into his own eyes. "I can't do it..." he mumbled to himself and turned away. The young man had so much doubt in his mind about his own capacity, even though his friends had been working on building his confidence.

"_Yes, you can, Reid. I know you can. I believe in you"_

Hearing the soothing voice once again inside his head, the young doctor calmed down. He could do it.

Turning back to the mirror he avoided to meet his own look as he adjusted his clothing. In his mind, he looked okay. Running his fingers over his head, he felt the still short tests of hair slowly growing back. He couldn't wait to have his protecting mane back.

As Reid walked out into the hallway he tried to remember if there was anything he had forgotten. Nothing coming to mind, he pulled the long trench coat over his arms and grabbed the satchel waiting on the chair. His Volvo awaited him outside.

-o-o-o-

Walking through the glass doors leading into the BAU, Reid felt as if he was coming home. The cup of coffee in his hand almost burnt the inside of his hand, but it didn't bother him. It was a feeling he was used to from his years as a caffeine addict.

A small smile rested on his lips as he saw Morgan and Gideon standing in the bullpen discussing something intensely. He was home.

As the young agent made his way down the small flight of stairs, he was noticed by his older colleagues.

"Reid!" Morgan gave him a huge smile and approached him, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Welcome back, man."

Gideon nodded at his young co-worker. "Good to have you home, Reid."

"Thanks. It's really good to be back." Reid smiled at his friends and colleagues. Spotting Emily moving towards them, he shot her a winning smile as well. "Hey Emily!"

"Hey, tiger; welcome back!" Emily wrapped her arms around the young agent, him not being able to respond in kind due to the coffee in his hand. He gave her a one-arm embrace, then pulled away.

"Thanks Emily. I've missed this place, oddly enough."

"Hey, home is where the heart is, right?" Morgan lightly jabbed his colleague on the arm as he gave him another bright smile. He was happy to have the resident genius back in the building. The last four months had been a real drag; no one to mess with. Sure, there was Emily and JJ, but it just wasn't the same. Gideon was not to be messed with, and Hotch... well, Hotch was Hotch, no need to say more.

"Reid!" JJ had spotted the small gathering in the bullpen and came over to greet the youngest member of the team. The smile plastered on her face could melt an iceberg. "It's so good to see you! I didn't think you'd be back until next week?"

"Oh, I got my release yesterday, and I'm sick of sitting at home." Reid looked a bit awkward, having not even had the chance to take his coat of or put down the cup of scolding hot coffee down on his desk. "Besides, wild horses couldn't keep me away from you guys."

The warm feeling inside the young agent's chest was enough to keep him in a good mood for a long time; just seeing the smiling faces of his friends and co-workers made him want to never stop smiling. It did feel good to smile again.

"Well, it's a good thing you're here. We have a new case that needs all of us. Conference room in five." JJ smiled. "Oh, and Reid?"

"Yes?"

"Welcome home."

"Thanks, JJ."

As the team made their way up towards the conference room, Reid took a moment to put his coat down over his chair. He was sweating like a horse in his overly dressed manner. He didn't notice Hotch coming up behind him.

"Hello Reid."

The young agent jerked and spun around, nearly spilling his coffee. The surprised look on his face quickly transformed into a smile as he saw his superior. "Hello, Hotch!"

"Oh, sorry; I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, I was just a bit startled. How's it going?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I'm...fine? I got my release yesterday."

"I know, I got the papers this morning. Figured you'd show up the moment you were cleared, so I was expecting you." Hotch smiled at his subordinate; a small smile, but a smile nevertheless.

"Yeah, well, you know..." The young agent trailed off as he shrugged and smirked.

"I know." Hotch placed a hand on his youngest colleague's shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready."

Hotch nodded proudly. "Let's go."

Walking up to the conference room, Hotch never let his hand leave the shoulder of his subordinate. He was very proud of the young man; even though he didn't directly show it, he hoped that Reid knew.

And Reid knew.

-o-o-o-

Closing and locking the door behind him, Reid leaned against it. Three days in the field profiling a serial arsonist in Burbank had taken its toll on him. It hadn't been the hardest case they'd handled, but even still; it was the first case he'd been on in four months and all he wanted to do was to sleep.

Dropping the satchel on the floor beside the shoe rack, he hung the trench coat on a hanger before shuffling into his apartment.

_I'll just eat something, take a shower and go to bed._

After a pre-packaged pasta salad from the nearby gas station, Reid was in the bathroom getting ready for a shower. As he stepped into the tub and grabbed the shower head he caught a glimpse of his wrists. It was a sight he preferred not to see.

The wounds were healed, but the white, smooth and quite broad scars still protruded slightly from his skin. Looking at his wrists, he thought about how lucky he had been that his team had arrived when they did. _Ten minutes later and..._

He shook the thought out of his head. He was here and he was alive, that was all that mattered. Turning on the water, the young agent stood still under the wonderfully hot pouring over his naked body. Sticking his face straight into the streaming water, the heat flowed over his skin, making it tingle and sting. It felt amazing.

Looking down at his lanky form, he could see the old bruising fading on his chest and arms. The cuts on his thighs had left ugly scars that made him look away. The young agent couldn't stand looking at the dreadful jagged lines running down his scrawny legs.

His body had slimmed even more after he returned home from Michigan. He was slender before, now he was just skinny. He had been very sloppy with his meals, forgetting and ignoring them. The young agent had been told he was a terrible eater about four thousand times in the last months by everyone on his team. After a while, he learned to ignore them.

The young doctor felt his arms burn like fire. He clenched his teeth and pushed the pain away. He didn't even want to look. The fresh wounds covering the insides of his lower arms hadn't scabbed up quite yet, and the pain caused the young agent to wince.

At least he was clean. Both on the inside and the outside. He always felt clean after he "purified" himself. It hurt like crazy, but that only made him more aware that he was alive. And he wanted to feel alive. Pain was good.

Drying off, he went into the bedroom, slipping into a pair of simple white cotton boxers. He had changed his bed linen that morning, and he could smell the fabric softener in the entire bedroom. Reid loved the smell of fabric softener. He loved all smells that didn't originate from the human body.

His bed was so soft, so wonderful. The pillow shaped himself after his head as he pulled the thick cover up to his chin. A smile came over him as he smelled the lavender on the fabric.

Leaving the nightlight on, the young agent was fast asleep, sleeping calmly in the warmth and security of his own bed.

-o-o-o-

"Time to wake up, Dr. Reid."

The soft voice making its way into the young agent's head was so familiar. Not opening his eyes, he frowned and wrinkled his nose. _Voices again... I'm dreaming..._

He felt something on his forehead. Something soft and warm. It almost felt like the touch of a hand. Turning his head to the other side, Reid gave a slight moan. He hated these vivid dreams.

The feeling on his forehead moved down to his cheek and over his head. Then it disappeared. _Good_, the young doctor thought. _No more dreams._

Suddenly, he felt a light nip on the tip of his nose. It made him inhale sharply and open his eyes. The sight that met him chilled him to the bone.

Sienna sat on the side of his bed, looking down at the young agent; smiling.

Reid shot up, trying to get away from the bed, but the object in Sienna's hand made him stop short. The large and very sharp kitchen knife rested in her grip, and the blade was pointed straight at Reid's stomach.

Panic raced through the young agent's body, making the adrenaline rush to his head. Reid could practically feel his heart trying to beat itself out of his ribcage. He couldn't breathe; the fear had left him completely incapacitated. All he could do was stare at his tormentor sitting before him, smiling at him.

"Good morning, Dr. Reid. Did you sleep well?"

As no answer came from the terrified man before her, Sienna continued.

"I thought I should pay you a small visit, just to make sure you made it back okay from Michigan."

Reid's chin was trembling as he felt tears rising in his eyes. His mouth was wide open as he listened to the disturbed woman sitting on his bed.

"I went to see you at the hospital too. You were asleep then. Agent Gideon was sleeping in the green armchair by the window. I had to check up on you after your friends finally found you. Lucky for me they didn't find the bug on Cate's laptop, right?" She laughed at her own words.

Finally, Reid had found the courage to speak. "W-w-why?"

"Why? Why what?"

"W-why are you d-doing t-this?" Holding his hands up in front of him, he feared what Sienna would do to him; remembering his private hell in her torture chamber.

"Why? Because I _want_ to. Because he _deserves_ it."

"Who? Gideon?"

"Yes."

"But he didn't..." the young doctor didn't have the time to finish before a vicious backhand silenced him.

"Listen here, Dr. Reid. I'm not here to have a nice conversation with you. That's what dates are for. I'm here because I wanted to let you know that this is not over. Not by a long shot."

Holding his now bleeding lip, Reid looked at his assailant in utter fear, no longer having the courage to try and talk.

Sienna continued. "As you can see, I can get to you at any time. I know where you live, I know where you work, I know where you eat, and I know where you buy your coffee - all six cups a day. And Dr. Reid; what you're doing to your arms – that's not a sane thing to do."

Terror bubbled in Reid's veins. _How does she know...?_

Sienna never stopped smiling as she leaned forward towards the frightened agent. "You know, under other circumstances..." She traced Reid's cheekbone with her fingers. Reid could feel her breath against his lips. "...you would have been quite a catch. Maybe next time we'll have more fun."

She gave him a smile and never let her eyes leave his as she pressed her lips against those of the young agent.

Reid felt nauseous, both from the fear and the repulsion of having this woman violate him all over again. A tear fell down his cheek as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Releasing the young man from her lips, Sienna sat back on the bed, looking at him. "I have to go now, I have an appointment. Just know this, Dr. Reid; we _will_ meet again. That's not a threat – that's a promise." She smiled at him as she stood up, still pointing the knife at the young doctor.

"Don't forget to always look over your shoulder, Dr. Reid." With that, Sienna turned around and left the room.

Reid was paralyzed with fear lying on the bed. He could hear the door slam shut as the young woman left the apartment. The young agent's mind was a complete blank. _Oh, God..._

As he regained his ability to move, he reached out towards the cell phone on his nightstand, and tried to dial. But his fingers were trembling so badly it took him three tries before he got the digits right. Still crying in pure fear, he pressed the phone against his ear as he curled up into a ball on top of his pillows.

"_Reid? Hello?" _Morgan answered the phone, slightly disoriented. _"Reid, man – what's wrong?!"_ All he could hear was his young colleagues frightened crying.

"Morgan..." he managed to force out. "She...was here!"

"_Who? Who was there? Reid!"_

Reid cried violently into the receptor. "Sienna... Sienna was here."

"_Are you okay?"_

"I don't know..."

"_I'll be right over. Lock the door and grab your gun. It's gonna be okay, I'm coming."_

Reid dropped the cell beside him on the bed. Holding his knees, he pulled them up to his chin, trying to hide under his own limbs. The young doctor was terrified; shaken to his very core by the promise spoken by the deranged woman.

His nightmare wasn't over; it had only begun.

_Voiceover by Gideon_

_"Yet he did not put the sons of the assassins to death, in accordance with what is written in the Book of the Law of Moses where the Lord commanded: 'Fathers shall not be put to death for their children, nor children put to death for their fathers; each is to die for his own sins'. 2 Kings 14:6."_

* * *

**The end?**

**A/N again: As this story has now ended, I shall tell you all a secret. The UnSubs, Sienna, Cate and Tracy - were actually -dum dum dum!- US! AddictedArchangel, editor frog and tellygirl! We used names matching our initials and kidnapped Reid. We planned this whole thing together. I - Sienna - did all the dirtywork, Tracy - tellygirl - was our technical expert, doing the wiring and other electric things (she also helped with the whumping) and Cate - editor frog - was the main plan maker and getaway-creator. We had a blast during this kidnapping and we will DEFINETELY do this again - soon. Until then, over and out from Sienna, Cate and Tracy!**


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